Law Man

Chapter Seven People Like Me

I looked through Mr. Pierson’s office window to the cavernous space that was filled with bed and mattress displays.

Yesterday, my first day with the kids, I’d finally pulled myself together enough to remember that Roberta had the day off. So I’d called her and told her all that went down (well, most of it, I left out all things Mitch). I asked if she could help out and she’d instantly said yes. So I took my lunch hour to pick up the kids from school, took them to Roberta’s and went to go get them after work.

Now they were out in the store. Billie, luckily being quiet for once, was standing next to Roberta who was with customers. Billy was sprawled on a bed playing a video game that Roberta brought in to help him fill the time.

Yesterday I’d also told Mr. Pierson about my change in life circumstances and asked for some leeway while I got the kids sorted. Not surprisingly, he’d agreed.

“Can’t make it a habit, Mara, honey, but until you set them up, do what you need to do,” he’d said. He then asked, “Now, how can Mrs. Pierson and I help?”

That was Mr. Pierson. Totally a nice guy.

Therefore, today the kids were in the store with me until I could sort out afterschool childcare. First I had to sort out how I was going to pay for afterschool childcare. I’d called a couple of places and what they’d quoted, especially since the hours I needed them ran late, was a resounding strike to my budget for just one kid. Two was crippling.

I had a nest egg which I had carefully built up so any unforeseen emergencies wouldn’t crush me. Once I had that at five thousand dollars, I let it sit in a savings account and started to build up my “I’m Going to Own My Own House One Day Damn It” account. This was building up too and was relatively healthy. Not to the point I could buy my own house, or even close, but it wasn’t anything to sneeze at.

Pierson’s Mattress and Bed was a big warehouse store, we had all your mattress and bed needs. Including entire bedroom suites and contracts with contractors who would build built-in wardrobes and units that surrounded beds and stuff like that. Our price range fit everyone’s budget. I didn’t do too badly. We moved a lot of product because everyone knew they could find something at Pierson’s and buy it from friendly, helpful salespeople. Then, after purchase, they had their wares delivered on time, during an unheard of two-hour window, instead of having to wait all day for the guys to show up whenever they showed up. Mr. Pierson guaranteed it on all of his commercials. That two-hour window set him above all his competitors. No one wanted to hang around waiting for their mattresses all day.

This meant I lived well. I had a nice car. Great furniture. Decent quality clothes. A nest egg. A house account. The money to be able to afford to buy my friends really, freaking great birthday and Christmas presents.

But I didn’t live large. No way.

And I didn’t want Billy and Billie to live small. Just taking on afterschool childcare, living small was exactly where life was leading us and I didn’t know how to do anything about that.

Then again, they’d been living small for awhile, tiny, so anything I could do was better than what they were used to.

“You need beds,” Mr. Pierson announced behind me and I turned to him.

He was a couple inches shorter than me when I was in heels; very skinny and had white hair sprinkled not very generously with black cut short around the sides and back of his head. The rest was bald. On the looks scale, he was around a Three. Add his cheery personality, his kindness and his generosity and he was totally an Eight Point Seven Five.

He was sitting behind his desk, smiling at me.

“Yes, Child Protective Services are coming around on Friday and I need to get their room sorted before they do.”

“Right,” Mr. Pierson nodded. “Take two of the Spring Deluxe Singles. I’ll give them to you wholesale, with a twenty percent discount, plus your employee discount added on to that.”

My mouth dropped open. The Spring Deluxe mattresses were the best of the best. The cream of the crop. I had one and I loved it. It was ultra-comfy.

But they were expensive. I’d had to save for three months and buy mine during a store-wide sale. I could only afford it because Mr. Pierson let us use our employee discounts even during store-wide sales.

“I –” I began.

He waved his hand in front of his face. “Otis over-ordered. For months we’ve been sittin’ on an inventory of Spring Deluxes we can’t move. They’re pricey. People don’t often spring for the Spring Deluxe, not even when you’re sellin’ them.” He grinned at me and continued, “Why he ordered that many, I do not know.”

I didn’t either but then again, this was Otis. It was my experience that everyone had an annoying cousin and Otis was Mr. Pierson’s. I figured Mr. Pierson kept him working in the warehouse because no one else would keep him working for more than a couple of days due to the fact that Otis wasn’t all that smart. He was a nice enough guy (although I had to admit I thought he was creepy and Roberta agreed) but he wasn’t all that smart. It wasn’t a nice thing to say but it was true.

“They’re just takin’ up space in the warehouse. Space I need. You’d be doin’ me a favor,” Mr. Pierson finished.

He was full of it. He was losing money on the deal he offered me. Big time. He was just being nice.

“Mr. Pierson –” I started but stopped when his eyes caught mine.

“Kids need good beds,” he said softly.

He was right. They did.

God, I loved my boss.

“I love my boss,” I told him and his face melted into a smile, the whole of it, just like he always smiled. I loved my boss and I also loved his smiles.

“You’re off tomorrow. I’ll set up delivery,” he told me.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Mitch!” I heard Billie screech from the showroom floor. I whirled around to look back out the window only to see Billie tearing through the maze of beds in a direct trajectory to Mitch.

She aimed, she fired, she hit her target, throwing her arms around his hips and giving him a big hug.

I watched Mitch’s hand settle on her hair. Then I looked at all that was Mitch and I really wished that I wasn’t still kind of in love with him.

What on earth was he doing there?

I turned back to Mr. Pierson who was also looking out the window, undoubtedly at Mitch.

“That’s my, um…neighbor. I think I need to go talk to him,” I said to Mr. Pierson.

His body visibly jolted and his eyes slid to me. “Neighbor?”

“Look!” I heard Billie shout and I turned back to the window. “I’m wearin’ one of the outfits you bought me!” She had let him go and was yanking her t-shirt out at the bottom hem to show him.

I watched Mitch smile at her and he said something I couldn’t hear because unlike Billie he wasn’t shouting.

Then I felt a whoosh surge through my belly at witnessing his smile.

I forced myself to turn back to Mr. Pierson who was now standing with his eyes back at the window.

“Yes, my neighbor. Do you mind…?” I trailed off and he looked at me. Then he looked to the window. Then back at me. Then his eyes quickly darted the length of me.

Then he grinned a grin I’d never seen him grin before and he advised, “Don’t forget to ask him if he needs a bed.”

I nodded knowing there was no way in hell I was going to ask Detective Mitch Lawson if he needed a bed and moved quickly from the office.

The instant I hit the showroom Mitch’s eyes came to me. The instant his eyes came to me, my eyes went to Billy. He was still sprawled on the bed, the video game in his hands but now his gaze was on Mitch and his little face was hard. He didn’t, I noticed, throw himself at Mitch and I wasn’t certain he’d even said hello.

My head swung the other way and I saw Roberta with her customers. She was trying to pay attention to them while at the same time eye up Mitch. It was a name she knew and now that she had a handsome face, fabulous hair, fantastic body and great clothes to put with that name, she was obviously having trouble listening to her customers.

I made myself look back at Mitch just as Billie ran to me, grabbed my hand and tugged me toward Mitch, telling me, “Look, Auntie Mara! Mitch is here!”

“I see that, honey,” I murmured to her as I got closer and closer to Mitch.

She kept tugging at me. “Isn’t it great that he’s here so he can see my outfit?” she asked.

“It’s awesome,” I muttered as we stopped in front of Mitch.

“I know,” she breathed.

“Mara,” Mitch greeted and his face was closed, no warmth, no smile, nothing.

Yep he’d figured it out. Ten Point Fives didn’t give Two Point Fives warmth. Disdain, often. Shared breathing space, yes, but only because everyone needed oxygen. Warmth, no.

That knife that I hadn’t had time to pull out of my heart twisted.

“Mitch,” I replied.

“You got a place we can talk privately?” he asked.

I stared up at him wondering what this was all about. Then I decided my best bet was to find out and get him on his way as fast as I could. So I nodded.

“Break room,” I answered and bent to Billie. “Do me a favor, baby, and go sit with your brother.” She nodded up at me and I added, “And no jumping on beds or racing through the showroom. Just sit quiet with Billy until I come back. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure, Auntie Mara,” Billie chirped, grinned at Mitch then skipped toward Billy who was still staring at Mitch with his hard face. Billie climbed up on the bed then landed full body on her brother.

She was so totally not going to do that favor for me.

I looked back at Mitch to see his eyes were on Billy. “If you’d like to follow me,” I invited and he tore his gaze from Billy to nod at me.

I led the way to the door of the back hall, punched in the code, opened it, moved through the back hall with Mitch following me and then I turned us into the break room.

I flipped on the light and Mitch closed us in.

I sucked in breath when my eyes hit his no longer soulful, now expressionless, still beautiful ones.

Fast. I needed to do this fast.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“We got a problem.”

Oh boy.

He kept talking before I even had time to brace.

“Remember I said that if your cousin was all the kinds of messes you know then he was probably all the kinds of messes I know?”

This wasn’t starting out so great.

“Yeah,” I replied hesitantly.

“Well it’s confirmed. He’s all the kinds of messes I know.”

I felt my body grow solid, my eyes locked on his and I whispered, “Oh shit.”

“That about covers it,” Mitch agreed.

“Tell me.” I was still whispering.

“Bill’s had a bad coupla days. He’s detoxing and it hasn’t been pretty mostly because he’s hooked on smack and he’s hooked on speed and he’s a drunk and there’s likely other shit he’s hooked on. He’s a user and he’s a dealer. He’s real good at the first, sucks at the last. Not popular with the suppliers in Denver mostly because he’s fucked half of them over and the other half he owes money. He also owes money to a variety of other people, none of them people you wanna owe shit. He’s recently devolved to selling information which makes him even less popular and he was already pretty fuckin’ unpopular. And if that wasn’t enough, when they went through his house they found a shitload of H and E, enough that he’s been charged with intent to distribute. And proving he’s not just an assclown but a serious fuckin’ assclown, they also found stolen property that we reckon he either stole himself, he stole from someone else who stole it or he was gonna fence it for somebody.”

“This doesn’t sound good.” Still I was whispering but now it was because I was more than a little scared for my cousin.

“It isn’t,” Mitch confirmed. “The good news is, you got the kids out in time and we got to him in time.” He hesitated, studied me a moment and then continued, “But you should know, Mara, once he detoxes and goes to lockup, he’s got so many enemies, it isn’t likely he’ll be real safe there. That said, we know this and he’ll be placed in protective custody so at least he’s safer there than he was out on the street. And Billy and Billie are a fuckuva lot safer with you than they were with him because there was a good chance they’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their home was the wrong place to be and, until you intervened, they had no way to avoid it.”

“Great,” I muttered, looked away and bit my lip.

“Look on the bright side, Mara,” Mitch’s voice came at me, “right now everyone is safe.”

I nodded, trying to find the bright side. “Okay.”

“Got more to tell you.”

I looked up at him and scrunched my nose not wanting to hear more but I still repeated, “Okay.”

He watched my nose scrunch and didn’t speak, not for a long time, long after I’d unscrunched my nose. In fact, he seemed to lose focus as his eyes settled on my mouth. Then his eyes moved to mine and he regained focus.

“That guy that Billy said was visiting?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Got a feeling his name is Grigori Lescheva. He’s Russian mob and when I say that I mean he’s the top guy in the Russian mob.”

This didn’t sound good. On all the television shows the Russian mob guys were the worst.

“That doesn’t sound good either,” I pointed out when Mitch said no more.

“Nothing about this shit is good. Lescheva’s just the worst part of it. Sources say Lescheva’s settin’ up a power play to claim new territory. Bill was passin’ him info about competitors. At first he was doing this because Lescheva was paying him. In the end he was doing this because Bill owed Lescheva. You do not want to deal with Lescheva at all. But if you gotta deal with him, you want him to owe you for whatever you got, not the other way around. Your cousin knows every scumbag in town. He’s sold to them. He’s bought from them. He’s partied with them. He owes them money. They’ve fucked him over or he’s fucked them over. He’s been busy since he hit the city and therefore he’s a good informant. But there’s only so much he has, only so much he can give. Especially now that no one likes him, no one trusts him and most everyone wants something from him and some of them, him not breathin’ is what they want. His usefulness to Lescheva was diminishing which means Lescheva would be calling on the debt. Bill is an assclown and a nuisance and not worth the effort for most unless the opportunity presented itself. That is, he was until he started feedin’ Lescheva information. But Lescheva doesn’t like debts and he’d call it, one way or the other. If Bill couldn’t pay, Lescheva’d get creative in finding a way to get it.”

I stared at Mitch, wrapped my arms around my ribs and focused on not crying and/or freaking out.

“That really doesn’t sound good,” I whispered so quietly I could barely hear me.

“The good news for you is Bill’s being held without bail. He’s considered a flight risk.”

“Okay,” I whispered though his good news was relative.

“That means the kids will remain with you if CPS approves you fostering them after they visit which they’ll do.”

I nodded.

“The other good news is that with the evidence they have and the fact that this is strike three, it’s unlikely he’ll be breathing free for awhile.”

Damn. He knew this was Bill’s strike three. Of course he would. It was the computer age. He probably discovered that in, like, two seconds.

Bill’s blood flowed through me. No wonder he had no more warm smiles for me.

I nodded again even as I felt the knife twist.

“That means, while he’s inside, you can work to make that permanent.”

Yet again, I nodded.

“I’ll text you names and numbers of lawyers who can help you out with that. You might as well start now.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, wondering where I’d find the money to pay a lawyer.

He stared at me. Then he turned his head and looked at the wall that separated the break room from the showroom. Then he looked back at me.

“They doin’ okay?” he asked.

“Um…yes,” I answered. “Billie asks after him. Billy seems fine with everything.”

It was his turn to nod.

Okay, it was nice of him to come all the way out to Pierson’s to tell me this but I had to shut this down and move on. Again.

So I went about doing that.

“Um…thanks for coming all the way out here to, uh…keep me in the loop.”

I watched his jaw clench. Then he looked to the side and muttered, “Clueless.”

Oh boy. Here we go.

“Mitch –” I started to shut it down and his eyes sliced back to me.

“You workin’ this weekend?”

My head did a little shake at his confusing question. “Pardon?”

“This weekend, you workin’?” he repeated with slight amendments.

“Um…yes.”

“Both days?”

“Yes, Mitch, but –”

“Who’s lookin’ out for them while you work?”

I straightened my shoulders and admitted, “I haven’t got that far.”

He glared at me and muttered, “Right.”

I sucked in a breath through my nostrils and started, “Mitch –”

He cut me off. “Twelve to nine?”

My head tipped to the side. “Pardon?”

“Your shifts this weekend. Twelve to nine?”

“Yes, but –”

“I’ll be at your place at eleven,” he declared and I blinked.

“Um…what?” I whispered.

“Mara, I’m speakin’ English.”

“But, I –”

Mitch finished for me. “Need right now to get your head out of your ass.”

Oh hell. Not this again.

My arms uncrossed and my hands went to my hips.

“Mitch –”

“And, I’ll add, clue in,” Mitch went on.

“Seriously, that is not nice and you have no right to speak to me that way,” I snapped.

“You got a living, breathing, responsible human being standin’ right in front of you offerin’ to do you a favor. Not a small one, like changin’ a washer, but a big one, like makin’ sure those kids are safe, they eat somethin’ and they get to bed on time. Now any person who does not have their head up their ass and isn’t entirely fuckin’ clueless would take up that offer ‘cause kids need to eat, be safe and get to bed on time. You, for whatever twisted, fucked up reason, are gearin’ up to throw that offer in my face. So, even though I know I’m wastin’ my breath, I’ll still advise you to get your head outta your fuckin’ ass, clue in and accept my offer.”

I glared at him and before my temper caught up to my brain, I bit out, “Fine.”

His eyebrows went up. “Fine?”

“Yes, fine,” I clipped. “Although I’m not all fired up to let a big, fat jerk look after them, you’re right. I haven’t been able to sort out anyone to look after them while I’m working. I need someone to look after them while I’m working and although you’re a big, fat jerk to me, you aren’t to them and Billie likes you. So, fine. Thanks,” I expressed my gratitude acidly. “If you could watch them this weekend that would be a huge help.”

After I finished he stared at me. I glared at him.

Then he said, “Great. I’ll be there at eleven.”

“Perfect.” My tone was still injected with acid.

He didn’t move. I didn’t either.

Then for some reason the blankness went out of his face and his eyes started to warm.

“Mara –”

I shook my head and started to the door, saying, “Oh no you don’t. You can’t be mean to me and then be nice because being mean makes you feel shit because you’re usually a nice guy.” I stopped and put my hand on the handle of the door and my eyes hit his. “It’s okay to be mean to me, Mitch. Even people that are nice all the time are mean to people like me. I’m used to it. Go with it. Just don’t ever be mean to them.” I jerked my head toward the showroom, so caught in executing my dramatic tirade that I didn’t notice his expression had changed completely. Thus I didn’t notice how it had changed. “They don’t deserve it and the reason I took all this on is to make certain they don’t ever get to the place that they do. Now, are we done here?”

He was again studying me closely.

Then he said quietly, “I don’t think we are.”

“Well, I disagree,” I retorted, turned the handle and without looking back, I marched right out.