Sassafras, Part 23

Rick


As soon as she left Sneider threw the chips in the trash and started pacing around, kicking desks and cussing. He said she looked like she would be trouble. He was pissed about her getting a copy of the coroner’s report. She sounded too nosey. Somebody needed to keep an eye on her. “Do you want us to tail her?” asked Thompson, the youngest officer working in Sassafras.

“Don’t be an idiot, you dipshit,” Sneider said and slapped him in the back of his head. I heard that ring he always wore thump against Thompson’s skull and saw him wince. Sneider really was a prick. He took that whole walk softly and carry a big stick a little too far. He was too quick to attack, coming out of nowhere and using a sledgehammer where a flyswatter would have worked. It showed a lack of confidence in himself. I think he knew he would get his ass kicked in a fair fight. He didn’t trust you if he didn’t think you were afraid of him. “Don’t you think she would notice cops following her all over town? What I need it for somebody to take her mind off her sister. Show her a good time and then make sure she leaves town.” The only problem was his deputies were either a young punk that she wouldn't be interested in, or an old married man or a man who had a girlfriend that would cut his balls off with a rusty steak knife.

“You,” he pointed at me. “What were you two laughing about?”

“Toast,” I said. “Swear to God, we were talking about toast.”

He looked like he couldn’t decide if I was serious or pulling his leg. “She said she met you last night. I want you to keep her busy. I don’t want her asking any more questions about her sister.” I’m glad he picked me, because I didn't want to think of one of the other cops getting involved with her. I don't know if he would have thought about me if I hadn't been there. I'm sure I'm not the only person he's controlling and blackmailing. After all, that's what I was there to uncover.

Finally he calmed down and went into his desk. When I thought nobody was looking I dug the chips out of the trash and went back to the desk I had been sitting at and looked at them. I wondered what kind of camera they went in, and decided to try Googling the ID number on the back of them. I hardly noticed Sneider walk up and stand next to me, until he grabbed the chips out of my hand and punched me in the side of the head.

He looked like he was likely to kill me at any minute. He was waving his hands around and yelling at me. I couldn't understand at first what he was saying because my ears were ringing, but I could tell he wanted to know what I was doing with the chips. Somebody must have seen me dig them out of the trash.

I decided to see if I could bluff my way out of this. "Hell yeah, I took them. You told me to get on Joan’s good side. I thought I might get some brownie points if I gave her the chips back. Why do you give a shit, you threw them away?”

Sneider threw the chips on the floor and started stomping on them like they were tiny plastic roaches. “Next time you get a bright idea, don’t,” he said and hit me again, then stormed to the restroom. I kicked one of the chips with my foot, but I could tell they were all ruined. I erased the history on the browser of the computer I had been working and shut it off, then left the station.

I was curious about what really happened to Jenny, so I decided to go to the county seat, Stoneypoint, and snoop around the coroner's office. I didn’t want to just walk in and ask for a copy of the coroner’s report, so I had to come up with a cover. The coroner worked out of the county hospital, so I decided I needed to see a doctor for something, and thought a flu shot would do the trick.

I drove to Stoneypoint and found Mercy General. It was a large, gray building on the corner of Seventh and Main. I went in and just looked around for a while. It was the only hospital in the entire county, so it was pretty busy. I asked the secretary at the front desk about getting a flu shot and she said to go to the family clinic on the second floor. The directory said the coroner's office was on the third floor, so I went to the third floor and acted like I was lost.

"Yeah, I'm here for my flu shot," I told the attendant.

"You're on the wrong floor," she said. "This is the coroner's office. You want the next floor down."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," I said and looked around the room. There was a computer on the desk, but I didn't know if it was on-line or not. More likely just hooked up to other computers in the hospital. I would probably have a better chance of getting information if I could get on a computer in the hospital. I just had to think of where the weakest link would be. It had to be somewhere that I could get on the computer without getting too much attention. Maybe I would have to come back at night.

I went down to the second floor and waited for about an hour and a half until they called my name. I got my shot and decided to try the cafeteria. It was about 2:30 and there weren’t many people there. I was able to slip back into the kitchen and found their computer. It was hooked into the system. I was able to get into the coroner’s office and opened the file on Jenny. I wasn't a doctor, and most of it didn't make much of an impression on me. How much should her lungs weigh, and what should be the temperature of her liver? I did see what Joan had said about the whiskey in her stomach, but how important was that? The marks on the little body outlines just looked like scribbling. It said it was just a hit and run. So what was Sneider freaking about?

Before I went to Joan's I went home and got cleaned up. When I finally got to Joan's, I didn't even have to knock before she opened the door. I thought that was a good thing, until she walked out and slapped me right in the face. I was just glad she hit me a little lower than Sneider had, or I would have been seeing stars again.

"What was that for?” I asked, rubbing my cheek gingerly.

"You lied to me!" she yelled.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you were a cop. My neighbor told me you're a convict."

"I never said I was a cop. I said I do computer work at the police station. That's the truth. You saw me."

"So you aren't an ex-con?"

I couldn't get out of it. "Yes, I was in prison," I admitted, "but I’m not a mafia hit man or anything. I was an accountant and I stole money from some of my clients. I got busted and spent seven years in prison, but I'm straight now. I have a job at the Purina factory driving a fork life, but I also do computer work for the cops."

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"Because I knew how you would react. Just like this. You wouldn't have even talked to me if I had told you the truth. Would you even have sat next to me if you knew I had been in prison?"

She looked like she still wanted to give me a piece of her mind, but at least she hadn't slapped me again. She was pacing back and forth on the driveway, a strand of her hair whipping across her face, her long blue skirt waving like a flag in the wind. “Besides, I thought you already knew. You said the waitress last night told you.”

She stopped pacing and stood there with her hands curled up into little fists. “She said you were from Bowling Green!” she yelled.

“Yeah, the Bowling Green Correctional Center for Men. Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth right away. It's just not the kind of thing you just casually mention. I'm sorry." I reached out and touched her sleeve but she jerked away. Great. Now that she knows I was in jail she isn't going to believe me or trust me. The next time she was about to pace by me I stepped forward and cut her off.

"Look, I'm not that same person. I used to be a real crappy human being. I stole from people. I thought it was fun and exciting. I did anything I wanted and never thought about anybody but myself," I said. "You would have hated me, and you would have been right. I hate that me. But that's not me now. I paid back every dime I had and spent seven years in jail."

She wasn't looking at me, but she was at least standing there listening to me still. "If you really think I'm a danger to society, I'll leave right now. But you have to look me in the eye and tell me to go."

She finally looked up at me. "Then leave," she said and pointed at my car.

That sucked Big Time. Shit. I had been hoping my Hoganish charm would have saved the day. I couldn't think of any way to get out of this, but I didn't want to just leave. "Okay, if that's what you want." I really said that. I couldn't think of anything better to say. Then I couldn't put it off any longer so I turned around and started walking back to my car. I was opening the door when I heard her walking toward me.

"Wait," she sounded tired. "Don't leave." She was biting her lip and fidgeting. “Did you really think I already knew?”

“Yes. It seems like everybody I’ve met since I moved here already knows everything about me. You asked me about Bowling Green last night. I just assumed you knew I was in prison there.”

She sighed, and then said, "I'm sorry." I guess I must have looked confused, because she explained, "About slapping you. I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's ok. I deserved it. I'm sorry, too. Can we just start over?" I held out my hand and picked up one of hers. I was hoping she was sorry enough to let me stay, but she was still avoiding looking at me.