Maxine's New Life Ch. 07

"I know it is asking a lot of you. I know that the odds are against you, but I want someone to try and I want it to be someone I trust. I trust you, Maxine."

"I am very glad that you feel you can trust me, Helen, but it is going to take time away from my business and I frankly just can't afford it." I was searching desperately for some excuse to make it all go away.

"Oh, I knew that I would have to pay you. My catering business has grown over the years. I am not rich, but I can afford to pay you."

I just didn't want to do it at all. "Since the odds are so long, how about this? You pay Lucas for his computer records search. If he can find them, then you can pay me what it is worth to you for me to get them home."

"Maxine, I know you are going to find them. This was just meant to be, I know it."

"I hope you are right, but please don't get your hopes up."

"I trust you to do the right thing," she said.

I have no idea why, but at that moment I thought of Skeeter. "Helen, when you cater, do you have food left over now and then?"

"My refrigerator is always full of food, I take it to the shelter or throw it out."

"What time do you wake up in the mornings?" I asked.

"Good Lord, Maxine, I'm always up by 6 AM, why?"

"Because I have a deal for you, I also have a friend who needs you." What I didn't say was that Helen might just need Skeeter more. Maybe not, but at least Skeeter could get few better meals than Hardee's sausage biscuits. "Helen, you come here with your leftover food in the mornings at 8 AM and I will fill you in as to where we stand. Any morning you aren't here at eight with food, there will be no briefing. I made sure Helen understood before I said goodbye. I also got a copy of the letter from Sue.

Helen had agreed to stop by the office the next morning, and unknown to her, she would be providing Skeeter a free meal. It would save me a buck, but more importantly, it would put one more human in Skeeter's life. I had no expectation that Helen would want to take her home, but every little bit would help socialize Skeeter again.

Once our deal was struck, I handed the letter to Lucas. "Find this woman and her child?" I ordered.

"How?" he asked.

"You are the computer whiz, get to whizzing," I demanded.

I served papers and Lucas ran down Sue Atkinson and her daughter, Topaz. Yes, against all odds, he found Sue. Topaz got lost in the foster care system, but we had a place to start. Thanks to the freedom of information act.

23 the good news bad news game

I had not slept well the night before, too many things buzzing around inside my head. There was still the Anya thing back there rattling around, and it certainly needed to be settled. There, too, was there the license application, and of course, the good news, bad news conversation that was about to take place with Helen Atkinson.

I pulled my minivan into the parking lot of Ed's place. I had expected to wait at least a few minutes for Helen, but her catering van was parked alone in the lot. I shut down my minivan and opened the door. When I stepped down from the van, Skeeter crept cautiously from the shrubs. She was obviously hungrier than she was afraid of the strange van. I considered it a mixed signal.

"Helen, come meet your new customer." I said over my shoulder, while I kept eye contact with Skeeter.

Skeeter seemed to be sending me messages with her eyes. Mostly it was just one word 'WELL?'

"Bring the food, Helen," I demanded, "And move slowly, please."

"Do you think he likes ham?" she asked.

"Skeeter is a she, and look at her. I think she would even eat liver." I said.

"Are you kidding? She would love my chicken livers in red wine sauce. Everyone loves them, even people who hate liver," Helen said, defensively. "Now what do I do, she is drooling."

"You speak softly and move slowly forward. Get as close as you can, but when she starts to back away, put the plate on the ground and back away."

She got within a few feet of Skeeter before the animal looked panicky. Once she did, Helen sensed it and put the plate on the ground. Helen backed to where I stood and said. "Poor thing, what's happened to her."

"I have no idea, she just showed up here. She is only here at this time of the morning. She will eat, then be gone till tomorrow. Maybe she lived near here and her family just moved away, or something like that. I think she started out life with a family. It's just a feeling, I have no proof. Something has happened to make her afraid of people. She is a big dog; you can see how people might be afraid of her."

I watched Helen looking at Skeeter and I just knew the time was right to tell her the bad new. "Helen, there is no good time or way to tell you this, so I just have to do it. Sue died in prison two years into her four year sentence. She might have been paroled the same year, but she didn't make it long enough."

Helen began to sob. I moved to hug her while she sobbed gently. Then the strangest thing happened. The dog I couldn't bribe to come near me, moved to rub her nasty fur against Helen's leg. Helen's hand fell onto the dog's neck. Skeeter tensed, then relaxed.

"What about my granddaughter?" Helen asked.

"She went into the foster care system and got lost. Kids from that system don't always do well and she would be over twenty now. Lucas is going to check some more public records today. Then we'll make a new plan."

Helen seemed to get a hold on herself with the news that there was some hope. Hope her granddaughter, Topaz, might be traceable. She stopped crying and moved toward her van. She was defeated for sure. Skeeter moved to the bushes with almost the same gait. My own eyes teared up. If I had been a more human person, I would have been balling.

I decided then that even if it took ten years, I would find that little girl. Even though she wasn't little any more, she was still lost. I was going to make it my mission in life to at least give her the chance her mother didn't have. The chance to come home again and spit in Thomas Wolfe's eye.

Just as soon as he came into the office, Lucas viewed the tapes from the night before. It was his morning routine. When he saw Helen, Skeeter, and me, he said, "This place never ceases to amaze me. Getting chosen to work with you was the most awesome stroke of luck."

"Wait till you get to the downside, Lucas. Find the daughter, I don't give a shit if you have to rob graves, just find that kid. Speaking of graves, find where Sue is buried. I mean the exact plot where she is buried, not just the name of some potter's field. One more thing, if you ever say awesome again in my presence, you are fired."

"Yes, Boss," he said.

"And get that license application ready for me to file. I'll sign the damn thing, but you get all the forms I need printed off. I bought you that fancy printer, now I want to see it working."

It was true. Since my first week back, Lucas kept tell me how much better his life would be if only he had a first rate printer for his computer. Neither Ed nor I had any interest in printing things. If we needed something printed, I just copied it to a thumb drive then carried it to an office supply house to have it printed. It was inconvenient, but we didn't do much printing so it was okay with me. Lucas assured me that if he had a laser printer, things would be different. It was true that I didn't drive to the Office Depot as often, otherwise nothing much had changed.

Jennifer hadn't been sure that I needed a license for either of my endeavors, but if I did it would be the license from the private protection agency. It was a catch all for every private security business. The requirements were ten years of law enforcement experience and two qualified references. There was a college education trade off for experience, but I had to pass on that one. I reached out to Blevins and Jennifer for the references, so I was on my way. In the meantime, Jennifer said to keep on doing what I was doing. She promised that she would handle any fallout.

It was after lunch when Lucas said, "Dead end on Topaz for now."

"So what do you have?"

"She was in and out of different family situations until she finally landed in a group home. That kind of home is a halfway house for young offenders after they have been taken over by the courts. She has a Juvenile record for sure."

"I don't give a shit about her Juvenile record. Is she in the system as an adult? She is old enough now to be in the open records section."

"No, whatever it was happened six years ago, didn't happen again. She didn't re-offend as far as I can tell."

"So where is she?"

"After the group home, she went to live with one last more family."

"So?" I asked.

"They list them in the records by a code number. I don't have a clue who it is?"

"Get me the code and let's see if I can make a trade." The need of a trade gave me the excuse I needed to go back to the Cop Out Club. It was my chance to find out what kind of relationship I had with Detective Anya. I realized at that moment that I was whoring for some pimp whose name I didn't know. Dear God, have I sunk low enough yet or do you have more depth for me in the slime.

The day passed with not much more happening except I did take Lucas on a couple of summons deliveries. I showed him a couple of tricks that made it easier to hand off the papers without a fuss. I first had to convince him that it was just a job, nothing personal. There was no glory in being macho or a wise ass. It was all just GB, general business, not a life changing experience.

I slipped on my little vest with the words 'Lightning Courier' embroidered over my right breast and the fake ID penned over my left one. Then I parked my van with the signs and I went into the small retail store owned by our mooch. "I have a delivery for Mr. Evers," I said to the teenage chick behind the cash register. I smiled at her. I hoped it was professional, but it might have had a hint of a flirt there.

"Mr. Evers, you have a package," she said, absently. She was bored. Lucas was not dressed in his fake delivery uniform, so that he could just observe without being noticed.

"Mr. Evers, I have a registered delivery for you, Sir. Would you sign here?" I pushed the clipboard to him.

"Who is it from?"

"Sorry Sir, they don't give the drivers that information."

"Then I'm not signing."

"That's fine, Sir. You can have it anyway and I'll just make a note of it." I handed him the brown envelope. "Have a nice day."

I considered the delivery a success because I made it to the door before I heard his enraged voice scream, "BITCH." I wasn't sure, if he meant me, or his soon to be ex-wife. Either way, it was too late for either of us to care what he thought.

"See, Lucas, there is no need to be confrontational. The delivery gag will get him out, even if he still refuses to sign for the package. All you have to do at that point is to put it within his reach and say, "It's yours like it or not." Nine times out of ten they will pick it up. You do have to get it into his hand or onto his person. If you have the balls, you can reach over and slip it into his pocket.

"I got you," Lucas said with a smile.

On the way home from the office, I stopped by the Super Duper Wal-Mart for dinner. I bypassed the deli, because I ate too much when I ate from it. Instead, I went to the frozen food lockers. I picked up a couple of dinners. One spaghetti and one hamburger steak; both came with fancier names, of course.

I also picked up a couple of their house brand cola drinks in the diet version. Those at least didn't taste like nuclear waste. After I paid the bill, I drove home, making sure I wasn't followed. It was a habit I had developed in my days dealing with the 5th Street Rollers and the bad ass brothers.

When I got home, I removed my jacket, then quickly realized that it was chilly in the house without my jacket. I used a small piece of toilet paper and a match to light the oil heater. I put my heavy pullover sweater on while it did its thing. I held off heating the frozen dinner until the room was warmer. I didn't think I would like eating in the cold ... While I waited I reheated the leftover morning coffee in the microwave. Even several hours old coffee was better than no coffee.

Since I was planning to visit the Cop Out, I decided that I would take a shower in the tiny motor home style bathroom. Two showers in one day meant even more dirty clothes. I hated trips to the Laundromat, but they couldn't be avoided. I had bought a full box of underwear and bras from Wal-Mart, but even so, I eventually got to the end. The shower was another chore I would hold off on till the room got warm.

I made the hard decision to have spaghetti for dinner. The frozen dinner went into the microwave for 12 minutes. While it heated, I rounded up the jar of dried peppers, the jar of garlic powder, and of course, the bag of grated cheese. I figured I had to eat that crap from the frozen good case, but it didn't have to taste like it came from there.

24 An old lady 8

Even after the wait for the heat to come up, the shower left me with a slight chill. I was still naked when I walked to one of my few purchases. I had bought one of those old fashioned full mirrors with legs when I first moved into the cabin. I removed the towel and put it on a nearby chair. I took a good look at my body.

"Not too bad for an old slut," I said, with a smile. My boobs never were big, so they didn't shrink much when I lost weight. They did begin to sag even more. The sag meant that next time I bought bras; I would have to buy stronger ones. Those little strips of elastic didn't do much to shape them these days.

My tummy was almost flat. I had left on the road trip with a belly dancer's tummy, and even that was gone by the time I got to California. I did enough pedaling on that damn bike to tighten up most of the muscles in my body. If it weren't for the fuzzy hair, and my really skinny legs, I would be killer. As it was, I was probably an eight. Okay, old bitch eight, but still an eight.

I dressed for the Cop Out. I put on a push up bra and bikini panties. Both were white, since I was sure no one was going to see them. Even so, I wanted clean underwear just in case. On the outside I wore jeans and a top with a scoop neckline.

I walked through the door of the Cop Out at exactly 9 PM. The place was pretty empty, even for a weeknight. Jerry sat at the bar, but Blevins was nowhere to be seen. "So, Jerry. I missed you Saturday night. Did you have a date?"

"No date, I hear I should have been here though. They say you were really blasted, so drunk that new Detective Bostic put you in a cab."

"Yeah, they tell me that too. Speaking of Anya, where is she tonight?"

"She and Blevins are working a bootleg bust. They are probably down in booking by now."

"Bootlegging huh, I guess there just aren't enough murders here to keep them both busy?" It was a question.

"Not many at all since the gangs have been keeping their heads down."

"That won't last," I replied.

"We all know it. It's just a matter of time before it starts up again."

"Jerry, what's the deal on that Anya chick anyway?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, one day she is just here and as a detective yet."

"She isn't just here, Max. She was undercover for a long time. When the gangs went down, she came out."

"Oh crap, did all that bullshit ruin a UC investigation?"

"Yeah pretty much, but back to your questions, she came here from up north somewhere. Came on the force as a detective, and because she was a fresh face, she went UC."

"Well now it makes more sense," I said aloud, but I still wondered what she had in mind for me.

"Yeah, but man she is one cold bitch. No offense, Max, you are one bad ass chick and cool as hell, but Bostic is just ice water cold."

It was an interesting thought. I'd still want to make my own judgment as to how much passion, if any, she brought to the bed. Jerry and I had two more beers, which we drank very slowly, before Blevins and Anya came in. I got the sense of a big time chill between them. I had a feeling they were never going to gel as a team.

"Well, hey there, Max," Blevins said.

"Hey, both of you."

"Yes, hello, Maxine," Anya added. I gave her a hard look, but I nodded anyway.

"So, Max, how was your head Sunday morning? You really tied one on Saturday night." Blevins looked at me closely at me for the answer.

"Not great, but I did survive," I replied.

It was another 30 minutes before Blevins went to the bathroom. While he was gone, I whispered to Anya, "We need to talk."

"What about?" she asked, cautiously.

"Rape is a subject that always interested me," I replied.

She nodded and led me to a table away from the others. "You know that wasn't rape."

"Do I really, you had me drugged and sexually abused. I think, I could make a pretty good case for rape. Judging from the way Blevins looks at you, he would probably be happy to pursue it."

"You have no proof, Anya said quietly, but she was also looking all around.

"Want me to go down and swear out a complaint against Margie. If they search her place before you can warn her, they likely will find what she used to get my cooperation. Then when she goes into the jackpot, she will roll you up and you know it."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"First of all, what's your game?"

"Look, Margie came on to me. I know she likes girls and I don't go that way. I have heard that you do and you looked like you wanted to get drunk. So it seemed like an easy match up."

"But why are you procuring girls for Margie?"

"Margie is a CI for me. She hears everything that goes on in town. That place she runs has connections that transcend social classes. As you seem to have figured out, she doesn't need money. What she needs is a lot of sex from discrete women."

"So you procure them for her?"

"You are the only one. I hope you agree to go back now and then. Margie has been very cooperative since your visit. She gave us the bootlegger we busted tonight."

"And you won't tell Blevins who the CI is? That explains his lack of enthusiasm," I said.

"So what's it going to be?" Anya asked. "What's the price for your cooperation?"

"Tell me why you looked so surprised that I came to have this talk with you?"

"I was told that you were the sexual slave type, someone who would go along with anything. I never expected to have a problem with you."

"Well, I'm not sure what they call it, but I go along with most anything. But I get something from it and I didn't with Margie. It wasn't because she wasn't willing; it was just that by then I didn't want what she was pushing."

"I see, so what do you want to make this stay under wraps."

I slipped her the paper with the family code on it. "I don't care how you do it, but I need the name that goes with this family from the Charlestown Social Services office. It's some kind of special foster family."

"I'll make some calls tomorrow, but don't get your hopes up. They code these guys for a reason, even if they don't tell people why that is."

"If I were you, Bostic, I would make this happen." I smiled, then went to talk to Blevins. I intended to stay on everyone's good side. I ducked any questions about Bostic and me. If she has a story, let her tell it.

The next morning at 8 AM, I found Skeeter already having her breakfast. Helen was leaning against her van with a coffee cup in her hand, and a smile on her face just watching. I pulled up on the side of her van away from Skeeter, so as not to frighten her.

"Good morning, I quietly said to Helen. You want to come in for some hot coffee. It won't take but a minute to make some."

"No thanks, I have some really good thermos bottles. I can give you a cup though, if you like?"