Chapter 2

I got in my car, and stopped at Timmy’s. When in shock there’s nothing better than an extra large double-double and a sour cream glazed to put things right. Okay, so in this case, there were a lot of ways things could be improved, but coffee and a donut was a good start.

Gerry offered to tag along, but I needed time to collect my thoughts, before heading to my employment agency to let them know I was available for tomorrow. I handed in my last timesheet, but nothing fresh had come in just yet. Even though I wasn’t in the mood, I gave them my cell number and told them I could really use the work before I got desperate enough to flip burgers, or sort clothes at Value Village. However, until my name was cleared up in this mess, employment was the last thing on my mind.

The next, dreaded stop was the west end. I needed to fill in my parents about the deceased house guest before they heard it through the news or the trans-metropolitan grapevine known as my family at large. Any gossip can reach Etobicoke from Scarberia within a half hour. I wasn’t going to call Vicky either for the same reason. I surfed the radio stations searching for news of the city’s latest murder. There was nothing yet, great. My Bon Jovi CD kept me company on the drive over.

I wanted to call Elaine, my very best friend for the last ten years since college, but I just couldn’t do it until I was sure I wouldn’t break down. Elaine is great in an emergency but I wanted to digest the situation myself before sharing. Traffic on the Don Valley Parkway and the Gardener Expressway was clear at 10 a.m. on a Monday morning, and I made the trip in good time.

As I drove west I wondered who in hell would want Hodges dead. As I had told both Gerry and the detective, I had only known Hodges for a short while. I really didn’t like him. His collection methods were suspect and rumor had it he was snake when it came to women. So I guess there were many possibilities. Who would fit the suspect list? Pissed off victims of his collection attempts, and as many ex-girlfriends as you could shake a stick at. The biggest issue still stuck in my head was, "Why my apartment? Was it completely random or was I really being sent a message as Inspector Gibbons suspected?" I could speculate until the cows came home but until we knew the truth, it was as useful as banging my head against the wall.

My parents still lived in the same house they had when they first got married forty-five years ago. I hauled my trash out of the car and headed for the side entrance. Mom was at the kitchen table portioning out her groceries into meal-sized servings. Upon seeing the Timmy’s bag and tray she gave me the look, her patented you’ll-never-get-a-man-eating-junk-food look. I am definitely heading for plus size model status. My mother preferred herself and her “girls” to be Barbie perfect, referring to Edna and Charlene, my two sisters.

I returned her look with a skip-the-lecture-I've-been-through-hell-and-back glare. It’s like I had told the police earlier. Mom has always believed that the girls should stay at home until they meet Dr. Right and have ten kids. I am 34, divorced and have always believed in once fried in unholy matrimony don’t do it again. I appealed to Dad to get her off my case for the moment. Dad is a happy camper as long as he has his newspaper and a 12 pack of Guinness in the fridge. I sat down at the table.

Mom looked at me. “You’re not working today?”

“Nope.” I was feeling into short staccato replies.

“Why not?” was the obvious next query.

I didn’t really want to launch into a game of 20 questions with her about my employment status.

Mom continue to look at me. It didn’t take much for her to figure that something was up.

“Before I entertain you with my activities of late, I need you to put down the knife before you hurt yourself.” Mom carefully put the knife on the table and sat down.

“Laura,” she said, “you look like you have been through a war or two.” I had her attention now. “What’s going on?” She looked at my father. “Robert, put down the paper. Laura has news." She was likely hoping I had finally snagged my shrink. Mom doesn’t care what kind of doctor I marry, as long as the initials preceded his name.

“Don’t get all excited, Ma, I am not marrying Dr. O’Hara. In fact, let’s just leave my love life and employment status out of this,” I said. “There is something I do need to tell you. Number one, I am not working. I couldn’t handle the stress of chasing debtors and there is nothing available right now. Secondly, I had a guest visitor overnight.”

Mom crossed herself and gave me another look—her I-don’t-want-to-know-about-your-tawdry-sex-life look.

“Nothing like that! Someone deposited a dead body in my living room last night while I was out.” There, I said it. The best way I have discovered for delivering this kind of news is the rip off the band-aid quick method. “Mom! I may be in deep here. I have to get printed and tested for gunshot residue, in order to clear myself of any involvement in this crime.”

My mom plunked down on a kitchen chair. She looked skyward and crossed herself, sporting her why me? look. It’s kind of a shoot first, answer questions later approach

Her eyes became glazed. “What the——why? Did you know him?”

“Yes I did. Some one snuck him in sometime while I was out yesterday. Beyond that I don’t know. The police came this morning, and did the usual, including dusting for prints. They are going to let me know.”

“Okay, who was he?”

“Well he worked at the agency. His name was Anthony Hodges. Not sure why he ended up in my apartment yet either, obviously someone’s trying to tell me something. Maybe someone has an axe to grind and in his or her sick way is telling me I’m next.” This thought alone gave me the willies big time!

“Well then it’s final, Laura. I want you to move home.” Mom cut to the chase and put on her mommy knows best hat.

“I can’t. I have cats,” I was ready for her arguments and had some ready mad retorts of my own. “Besides, if I move, it will look suspicious to the police.”

“Bring them.”

“Who, the police?” I had a tendency toward sarcasm, which drove the folks nuts.

“Don’t get smart, Laura; you know I meant your animals.”

“You’re allergic.”

“Well, get out of that neighborhood! I never liked you living across the city. Saul across the street is renting out his basement—I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I am not moving THAT close,” I told her.

It might have been just the shock of the situation, but my mother was doing a great job of avoiding the bigger picture. Maybe that’s where I get it. I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

“Mom, I could end up very dead if whoever murdered Hodges found me. Another heinous possibility is I could do time for this, if the legal system decided I was responsible for the crime.” It was a hideous thought that we all had to face. The only good news was that Canada has no death penalty. However, I pictured being at the mercy of some big chick named Bertha who would either kill me or make me her prison bitch.

“I actually came here seeking refuge and a sense of safety, which I don’t think I am really getting here.”

“You’re welcome to stay here if you want,” Mom replied.

“No,” I returned. “I’ll call Elaine. I want to go home and sanitize my apartment after all that has happened. I may not stay there but I at least need to clean up and get some extra locks and maybe an alarm system. No one is going to surprise me like that again. Besides, the police planted an unmarked car in case the killer decides to come back. We also have to consider that if they want to question me further, I may just need a damned good lawyer.”

Dad chirped in for the first time. “Okay, Laura, I'll call my lawyer friend, Paddy Mulligan. He does real estate law, but he might know someone good at criminal law should the need arise.” No matter how little Dad said in a conversation, I could always count on his common sense approach—no nonsense from him.

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“No problem—hope you won’t need it but I’ll not put you in the hands of a ‘still wet behind the ears’ duty council.”

I kissed the top of Dad's head and also hugged Mom, and asked them to wish me luck and say a few prayers the next time they headed to Mass.

I pulled out my cell and called Elaine, arranging a dinner date with her and some of our girlfriends. I definitely needed a night out to forget my troubles, albeit temporarily.

“Where are you going for dinner?” Mom asked.

“Not the Moose Burger Emporium,” I said as I headed out the door.