Katt Dodd was back. My pinkie-swearing, lipstick wearing, kick-ass mother was back.
Almond stood there smirking in that condescending way some men have. He stood there waiting, no doubt, for my mother to cry. Fall down and fall apart. Dissolve into whimpering. Lose it in hysteria.
The guy just did not know women.
And he sure as hell didn’t know my mother.
See you can only push a Dodd woman so far, and losing the ring that my father had given her was the final push that Katt Dodd needed before she started pushing back.
“Deputy Almond,” she said. “Since these thefts began I have been nothing but cooperative with you. Since the disappearance of Frankie Morrell, the same. I’ve told you everything I know in every instance.”
I knew the tone. Oh, God, I knew this tone. Peaches Marie and I had received the same the morning after we’d sobered up from our first high school … ah, sleepover. This was the I’ve-put-up-with-all-I’m-going-to tone. This was Katt Dodd’s I’m-smiling-but-I’m-going-to eat-you-alive tone.
“Now what I see happening here, Deputy Almond,” my mother continued, “would seem to constitute police brutality. Harassment at the very least. You’ve been accusing me for weeks, yet your evidence is flimsy to non-existent. Anyone could have gotten my watch and you damn well know it. Well, Deputy, I am sick and tired of it. I’ve tried to be polite, cooperative and friendly. But no more. Now, you’re going to write up a report on my missing family jewels. And you’re going to give this matter all the attention that you’d give to each and every other crime in this complex.”
He tried to stare her down. “Since when do I take my orders from you, Mrs. Dodd?”
Katt Dodd reached into her pocket. She pulled out her Pinch-Me Pink without hesitation, smeared it on thick and smacked her lips together before she smiled at him. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Deputy. That ring was very special to me. And if you don’t apply the same diligence in solving this crime as you did the others, I will hold you personally responsible. And I will bring a law suit against not only yourself, but the entire Sheriff’s Department.”
“You think that scares me?”
“I don’t know if that scares you or not. But maybe this wilclass="underline" this is Florida, Deputy Almond. There are a great many ladies and gentlemen of my age here. And I assure you, when I am cleared of these crimes — and I will be — it is my intention to campaign tirelessly to get your elected Sheriff kicked out of his job. Every gray haired granny will be after his ass by the time I’m through, and I’ll make sure he knows it’s because of your actions, Deputy. Because of your harassment of an innocent senior. I have friends well beyond these Wildoh walls, and some in very high places. And I assure you, I am far from shy in front of the cameras. Would that be enough to unseat a Sheriff? Maybe not. But I’m betting he’d be prepared to cut your ass loose to take the heat off himself.”
Noel stared at her, but silently. Hell, she’d shut us all up.
“You think my magic is all in my head,” Mother said. “Just an old woman’s foolishness. Well, just watch how quickly I can make your job disappear. Your reputation.”
(And if I was judging things correctly, I bet his gonads, too, right about now.)
“Go ahead, try me,” Mother said. “You’ll find Cotton Carson is the least of your worries.” She went right up to him and got in his face. “Piss me off one more time, Deputy, and I swear to you the moment I’m cleared of these ridiculous charges, I will not only sue you for harassment, dereliction of duty and anything else I can think of, I will fucking mobilize a grey wave.”
Deputy Almond tried to stare my mother down. Failed. Though not miserably. The stare down lasted way past when my eyes began watering. But he failed nonetheless.
Muttering under his breath, he punched a few numbers into the cell.
“North? Deputy Almond here. Get forensics down to the Wildoh again. We’ve had another theft.”
Call completed, Deputy Almond sat on the sofa. “Can I bother you for a coffee, Mrs. Presley?” he asked, sweetly.
“Certainly. Cream, sugar, or spit?”
Well, he didn’t think that one over for very long. “Never mind.”
He opened up his handy-dandy note pad. Clicked open his pen. “Now, let me ask you a few questions, Mrs. Dodd,” he said to my mother.
Big Eddie sat down, his charm-filled necklace giving a tink with the motion. God that thing, must weigh a pound. About six mid-life crises rolled into one.
“Time for you to go, Eddie,” I said.
He looked at Almond. Almond nodded. “Yeah, Eddie. This time … I’ll handle it myself.”
“Don’t you need someone to safeguard the scene until forensics arrives? To make sure it doesn’t get, you know, contaminated?” he asked. “I can do that.”
“I’ll look after it myself this time.”
“You sure, Noel?”
“Quite sure.”
Eddie left, growling at a head-hanging Dylan as he went.
Mother sat on the sofa. She smiled at Almond as though he were the sufficiently chastised child and the time-out was over.
I learned a lot from this exchange. Relearned some too.
First, Mother’s strength. That was a refresher course. Katt Dodd had gone through some hard times in her life, especially when our father was dying and she had to be strong for Peaches and me. And now that the Dodd diamond was on the line, her real strength showed through again. The diamond meant the world to Mother, but she was the real rock here. She was the real family jewel.
Secondly, I learned never to accept coffee from Mrs. P when she’s ticked at you.
Thirdly and more importantly, I learned that Deputy Noel Almond didn’t believe my mother was guilty either.
Chapter 14
I hung around while the forensic guys did their job, watched as they took fingerprints and samples. Closely. Noel Almond did too.
When they were gone, and a coffee-seeking, caffeine deprived Noel Almond himself was out the door later that morning, I set out in search of Dylan. I didn’t have to look far. Big Eddie had him doing a shitload of work again today. As far as I could see, the only ‘security’ Dylan was providing for Eddie Baskin was securing that he’d get lots of rest and relaxation. Poor Dylan had been vacuuming, cleaning, painting, mowing lawns, trimming hedges — you name it — while Eddie enjoyed the free time.
And sure enough, as I headed toward Complex C in hopes of finding Dylan, I watched Eddie heading toward the lake’s driving range.
Yes, his he-vage rode down too low and his pants rode up too high. And yes, he was smiling as he headed out to play golf. But I saw it … that fixed grin was just a little bit strained as he made his way to the driving range.
And apparently, Big Eddie was feeling a little off his game this fine morning for within the ball-filled mesh bag that he carried in his left hand, a glowing orange ball stuck out like a … well, like a glowing orange ball among a whole bunch of white ones.
Big Eddie needing some of his own magic spin on that ball, perhaps? Not so very confident in his own drives and slices? Little shaky these days?
Good.
Fan-freaking-tastic!
I wanted him rattled. Rattled men make mistakes. (Not to be confused with that other well-known maxim, men are rattlesnakes.)