I hustled over to my car and followed the Dodge out of the parking lot and down Bay Ridge Avenue. I nearly lost it at the light at Hillsmere Drive, but caught up with the rental car again a few lights later.
When they got to the intersection of West Street and Forest Drive I knew they were headed for the Annapolis Mall.
Restaurant or food court? I wondered as I dogged their tail around the perimeter road of the enormous shopping center. Christie’s hands were actively waving, giving directions. Eventually Richard pulled into the parking lot at the Nordstrom end of the mall. Dickey-boy was going to splash out, it seemed. Stony River? California Pizza Kitchen? I parked a few spaces over and waited until the couple was safely inside the Cheesecake Factory. A thought struck me… I strolled casually over to Richard’s rental car and tried the trunk.
To my astonishment, Richard had neglected to lock the car. The trunk popped open revealing a carry-on suitcase, two paperback books, a black jacket and, underneath the jacket, a balaclava.
Gotcha, Balaclava Man!
It was a gorgeous day so I sat down outside the Cheesecake Factory at a table for two, snagged a passing server and ordered iced tea and a sandwich. While I waited for my drink I called Detective Powers and left a message about Richard and the balaclava, then swapped texts with Angie.
At mall. CCFactory.
OMFG.
Srsly.
Pix?
I figured there wasn’t any way I could take a picture of the happy pair without calling unwanted attention to myself, but I thought I could give it a try, so I texted back IAM and headed into the restaurant. If I were going to drink that tall glass of iced tea I desperately needed to find a restroom, anyway.
As I came out of the ladies’ room I spotted them, sitting in a booth across from one another, sharing a platter of Thai chicken lettuce wraps and toasting each other with cosmopolitans served in oversized martini glasses. Christie was gazing at Richard with the same look of adoration that the three kings had bestowed upon the Christ child. World War Three could have broken out around her and she wouldn’t have noticed. I hauled out my iPhone, aimed and took the shot.
Back at my table I sent the picture to Angie with no comment, dawdled over my chicken parmesan sandwich, ordered a refill on the tea then finally paid the bill and moved back to my car. Fifteen minutes later the couple emerged, arm in arm, laughing. Once again I followed the car around the perimeter road and into the parking lot of the Wells Fargo bank on Jennifer Road, next to Fuddruckers.
While Richard kept the engine running, Christie climbed out of the car, toodled over to the ATM and slotted in her card.
The next stop was the liquor store in the Festival mall at Riva. From a parking spot in front of Petco, I watched Richard enter the store alone, then emerge carrying something wrapped in a brown paper bag. After a discussion inside the car, Christie strolled over to the ATM next to the grocery store and made another withdrawal.
As they proceeded eastward on Forest Drive, stopping at two more ATMs along the way, Richard drove with the exaggerated caution of the professional drinker, sticking to the far right lane, never exceeding twenty-five miles an hour. I loafed along on their tail, wondering who was going to give out first – Christie’s money or me.
TWENTY-TWO
‘One time I dated this guy named John. He lived in a classy condo in Washington, DC. Early on, he showed me his family tree. I thought this was odd, but so what, he was a fun guy. A few months into the relationship, he said, “I cannot date you anymore. Your name does not fit into the family tree.” WTF? Since when is “Sue” considered strange? The accepted names included Agnes, Agatha, Bertha, Beulah, and Hortense. Oh, and my family had to have come to Virginia prior to 1750. I don’t recall being upset when John dumped me, just relieved. I wonder if he’s still single considering all of his family rules?’
‘Sue,’ Anonymous Facebook posting.
It must have been the shortest love affair in history, with the possible exception of Britney Spears and Jason Alexander whose ’til-death-us-do-part lasted all of fifty-five hours.
I’d followed the couple back to Calvert Colony. Richard let Christie out at the front entrance, then went to park his car.
By the time I’d parked and returned to Blackwalnut Hall Christie was standing on the balcony of the old hotel, Juliet to a Romeo who was staggering one painful step at a time up the staircase behind her. ‘But, Christie, I love you!’
‘No, you don’t! You’re only interested in money.’
What a surprise.
Richard grasped the railing, his head bowed as if it were too heavy for him. ‘That’s not true,’ he whined into his chest. ‘I love, love, love you.’
He dragged himself painfully up another step. ‘We’re going to get married! What’s mine is yours, baby.’
‘A lousy disability check from the VA?’ Christie screamed from her vantage point at the top of the stairs. She disappeared, but I could still hear her. ‘I don’t think so!’
Halfway up the staircase Richard stumbled and fell to his knees. His head lolled. Suddenly, he threw his head back and yelled, ‘Christie!’
‘Don’t you Christie me, buster. Go away and leave me alone.’
With a burst of energy only a professional drunk could muster, Richard lurched up the stairs. When he reached the top, he leaned against the railing, swaying dangerously, gathering strength for whatever was next on his alcohol-fueled agenda.
The man was a danger to himself and others, I thought. I waved, caught the attention of the receptionist and pantomimed dialing the phone. She gave me a thumbs up. It had already been done.
I had started up the stairs to see if I could help when Christie breezed past coming down, nearly knocking me over. ‘Sorry.’ She flushed. ‘I think we need to call security.’
‘The receptionist just did.’
Upstairs, Richard leaned over the balcony rail, calling down. ‘Christie, come back. I love you!’
‘This is so embarrassing,’ Christie said. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. Everyone must be talking about me behind my back.’
‘No, they aren’t,’ I reassured her, although everyone was, of course.
As we stood together, watching and waiting for security to show up, Richard eased one leg over the railing. ‘If you don’t come back to me, I’m going to jump! I swear I will.’
I stepped forward, but Christie grabbed my arm and pulled me back. ‘He’s so full of shit! You can’t believe a word he says.’
‘But what if he does?’ I hissed.
Richard was straddling the rail now. ‘I mean it!’
Christie pulled herself up to her full five-foot-seven and screamed, ‘Go ahead and jump, then. See if I care!’
‘No, don’t!’ I shouted back.
A khaki uniform swam into my peripheral view. The cavalry had arrived. ‘Sir, what seems to be the problem here?’ the security guard boomed, and started to climb the stairs.
Richard’s voice was calm, conversational. ‘I’m going to jump.’
‘I can see that, sir, but how will that solve anything?’
Richard didn’t answer, but remained where he was, teetering drunkenly on the railing.
‘He’s bluffing,’ Christie said.
‘Shut up, Christie!’ I struck the stupid woman sharply on the back.
‘I’m going to jump and it’ll be your fault.’ Richard slumped, suddenly drained of bravado. ‘You think I’m worthless? That’s how much you know, you heartless bitch. Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars, that’s what. That’s what you’re giving up by not marrying me.’