Falafel Jones - The Kewpie Killer (9 page)

Every evening I could shake free from Mom, we Skyped while we ate and talked about our days, but after a while, either Eddie or I couldn’t make it and we spoke less often.

Mom still drove me nuts so I kept looking for an apartment and left my boxes in a spare room. It didn’t help much.

The day I returned Kara’s car, I started carpooling with Mom.

“Put your seatbelt on, Dear.”

“I was just about to, Mom.” I put my travel mug in one of the cup holders and reached for the belt.

Mom waved her hand at my mug. “Oh, Dear. Not there, please. Use that other holder.”

“What’s the difference?”

“This one could spill on my dress.”

“It’s got a lid.”

“Dear, this is cashmere.”

Later that day, Mom gave me a ride home from work. When she pulled into her garage, I noticed an empty spot formerly occupied by my dad’s old MGB. The tarp that used to cover it laid folded on a shelf next to maps Dad and I marked for the road trip we never got to take.

“Mom. Where’s Dad’s car?”

“What? Oh… I… needed the space.”

“For what? You’ve got a four car garage and one car.”

“C’mon, let’s go in the house. What would you like for dinner?”

“What did you do with his car?”

“C’mon. Let’s eat.”

I didn’t know why, but I felt bad she got rid of it without telling me, especially since I had no wheels after returning the Kara-mobile. I wished I could talk to Eddie about it. He would have understood. At this point, I realized a week passed since he last called. Apparently, so did Mom.

We sat in the dining room, eating dinner, when she said, “I’m so glad you’re home again. By myself, I’d often end up eating while standing over the sink. It’s nice to have a civilized meal together.” She reached across the table and patted my hand.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“Mom, microwaving two Lean Cuisines and dumping the food on plates isn’t cooking.”

“What’s wrong, Doll? Are you upset because your boyfriend stopped calling?”

“Mom. I’m not sixteen and I’d appreciate some privacy.”

We ate in silence for a bit and then I asked, “How long do you think it would take to get used to a landfill smell?”

“What’s that, Darling? Landfill smell?”

“Nothing, Mom. Enjoy your cooking.”

After more time went by without hearing from him, I tried to put Eddie out of my mind. I liked him and thought we connected, but there was too much in my life for me to dwell on him.

One night, I helped Kara plan her wedding menu. Her caterer invited her and Tommy to taste various food options. Tommy begged off claiming he had to work late so Kara invited her bridesmaids to help.

Oddly enough, none of the other girls were free any night that week except for me. I suspected gown shopping had taken its toll on the group but Kara, bless her, probably thought they were all just very busy.

I borrowed Mom’s Mercedes and met Kara at the River Lodge where she and Tommy rented the ballroom for their reception. Andre, the Banquet Manager, greeted Kara warmly, inquired after Tommy and graciously accepted me as his surrogate. Absent grooms-to-be didn’t seem to be anything new to him.

Kara and I sat while Andre summoned waiters to bring us samples and she asked me, “You have a date for the wedding yet?”

“I’m not bringing one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when you invite someone to a wedding, you’re kind of making a statement about your relationship… and I’m not at that point with anyone.”

“You sure? It’s just a party.”

“Positive.”

“Well, you change your mind last minute, we’ll fit him in.”

“Thanks.”

Kara said, “I’ve got a question for you.” Then she sat without saying anything.

“Uh huh?”

“Crystal wanted me to ask you. She’s too shy…”

When Kara’s question trailed off and she avoided eye contact, I knew she expected I might not like the question.

“Go ahead, Kara…ask me what?”

“Well, Crystal’s always had a thing for Robby Carlyle and she hears you’ve been seeing someone else. She was wondering if it’d be OK with you if she asked Robby to the wedding.”

“Crystal doesn’t have to ask my permission. I’ve got nothing going on with Robby. We’re just friends.”

Kara took a deep breath and then let it out loudly. “I’m so glad. We, I mean, she was concerned because all of you bridesmaids’ll be at the same table. She didn’t want it to be awkward.”

When a waiter brought out various appetizers, the tray included tiny hot dogs wrapped in dough. They reminded me of Eddie and how much he wanted one when we first met. Kara, Andre and I worked our way down the menu until we came to dessert. Kara chose the house specialty, the same as Eddie when he took me here for dinner. To make matters worse, on the way out of the restaurant, I passed the table that Eddie and I shared. A happy couple sat holding hands and laughing in the candle light.

We exited the restaurant where Tommy waited in his car to drive Kara home. He got out to greet us and when he hugged and kissed Kara, I decided I couldn’t be more miserable.

I focused on my job to keep Eddie and Mom off my mind. As a result, I made important contacts and wrote some good stories. Robby and Crystal started dating and we spent less and less time together. Then in July, Robby phoned to tell me he passed the Detective exam.

“Didn’t they post the results of that a while ago?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to say anything till I got my gold shield.”

“Robby. That’s wonderful. Congratulations. I’m very happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Thanks. Last year, a lot of guys scored high but got nowhere because there were no openings. Cavanaugh’s retiring so there’s a slot and they needed someone to pick up his cases.”

Robby’s career wasn’t the only one advancing. The week before, the Boss summoned me to her office. When I arrived, I found an open door. Mom and Uncle Bill sat inside talking.

“Am I interrupting something?” I asked

Uncle Bill waved me in, “No. C’mon in. Shut the door. Have a seat.” He patted the chair next to him, facing Mom’s desk.

I did as he asked and looked at Mom. She didn’t look upset. I could tell. I’d seen her that way often enough.

“Raquel,” she said, “Uncle Bill and I have been reviewing your work.” Then she paused for effect. Mom was nothing if she wasn’t dramatic. I knew her act by now so I just sat there expressionless. She knew me well enough to know that I would react this way but sometimes, you just have to play out your role.

Uncle Bill said, “Oh, come on, Isobel. Get to it. This is Raquel.”

Mom smiled and continued, “Raquel, your work is good, in fact, very good and not just for a new reporter. You’re holding your own with seasoned pros. We’re promoting you from probationary employee to full staff. You’ll no longer be limited to working on assignments and you’ll be able to start developing your own story ideas, not that this ever stopped you in the past. Oh, and you get a pay raise and an expense account.”

Uncle Bill added, “But get receipts or the paper’s not paying.”

This was nice news. I worked hard to prove myself. Probably harder than I would have had to work for someone who hadn’t known me since birth. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, Dear. As your mother, I’m very proud of you.”

Uncle Bill said, “Me too, kid,” and patted me on my shoulder.

Then Mom’s smile faded, “Raquel. This has always been a family paper. We’re glad to have you involved. You’re getting to be a good reporter and we know how much you like that part of the business, but Uncle Bill and I aren’t going to be around forever. We’d like you to think about learning the management end of things.”

I always wanted to be a reporter, like Dad, but I didn’t think I’d be happy stuck inside an office dealing with the aggravation and nonsense like Mom and Uncle Bill. I wanted to say, “No, thanks.” Instead, I said, “Sure, Mom. I’ll give it some thought.”

“I know that look,” she said. “I’ve been seeing it since you were three. It means that you don’t want to do what I asked but you don’t want to discuss it either. Do you really think I don’t know by now when you’re blowing me off?”

I don’t know why but instead of getting angry, I laughed. Uncle Bill gave me a puzzled look. So did my mother. Then she broke into a smile. “You’re right, Raquel. We’re both too old for this. I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to give up being your mother, your father and just being your boss.”

“It’s OK, Mom. I’m sorry too. You deserve honesty. I enjoy reporting. I don’t want to sit behind a desk all day.”

“Your Father felt the same way. That’s why he did stories when the mood grabbed him. Nice thing about being the Boss, you pick the ones you want to do.”

“You’d be surprised,” Uncle Bill said. “When I was younger, I felt the same way. Reporting was exciting. Even when it was boring, it was exciting to be a reporter. Then, after you’ve lost count of the dead bodies you’ve seen, the crying witnesses to tragedy you’ve questioned, the repetitive nonsense of local politics, you yearn for a change.”

“There are other reasons too,” Mom smiled. “After a while, you may decide that you know more about running paper than we do and knowing you, you’ll want to prove it – if not to us, at least to yourself.”

“Maybe one day, Mom, but I’m not ready now and I’m not going to be ready for a long time.”

“That’s fine dear. The more experience you get, the better the job you’ll do running things. Besides, Uncle Bill and I are too young to walk away just yet.”

Uncle Bill stood up rubbed his lower back and said, “Speak for yourself, Isobel. Later, ladies, I’ve got to return a call.” He kissed me on top of the head on the way out.

I got up too. “OK. Mom. I’ll consider it, and this time, I mean it.”

“Thanks, Doll, that’s all I can ask.”

A week later, I sat at my desk working on a story about a zoning controversy in the suburbs when my phone rang. I answered it and heard a familiar voice.

“Hi, it’s Eddie Franklin.”

I hadn’t heard from him in almost a month. He lived far away, but the way he spoke when we met made me think he would keep in touch. He didn’t. I had been disappointed for a while but thought I got over it. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what to say so said nothing.

“OK, guess I deserve that. Sorry, should have called.”

“That’s OK.” I wasn’t going to let him know I missed him.

“No. It’s not. I really enjoyed being with you. So much so that I deluded myself into thinking we could have a relationship with me here and you there. When I got home, talking on the phone wasn’t enough. Even seeing you on video didn’t cut it. I was foolish and selfish to think I could make this work. I figured you’d be better off if I faded away and you had a normal relationship with someone you could actually touch once in a while.”

“So you didn’t think my opinion mattered?”

“Geez. This is one reason why I was afraid to call. Of course it does. Look cop relationships fail a lot even when we’re married and living in the same house.”

“When we’re married?”

“I was talking about cops. I mean when they’re married. Look, I didn’t call to fight with you.”

“Then, who did you call to fight with?”

“You’re sharp. That’s one of the reasons I like you. Look, I was wrong to think that if I didn’t call I wouldn’t miss you. I’ve got some time off and I’m coming to New York. I’m hoping I could see you.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“I won’t know till I get there. I wanted an excuse to call you so I looked for carnival deaths over the last twelve months.”

“You didn’t need an excuse to call.”

“Yeah? Good thing, because except for that clown killing and the murder-suicide with the bride and groom Kewpies, I’ve got nothing.”

“They’re both sad but there’s something about the bride and groom Kewpie Dolls that gets to me.”

“Yeah, me too, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Can I see you?”

“Why are you coming to New York?”

“If your answer is no, I’m not coming.”

I missed him too and could almost understand how his frustration kept him from calling. “When does your flight get in? I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Tomorrow, I’m due in at one.”

* * *

After work, Kara and I met for dinner and lingerie shopping. She feared a meal would make her belly look big so we agreed to eat after we shopped. My stomach growled while she modeled sexy things she probably wouldn’t get to wear more than ten minutes at a time. She also tried a few hot items poor Tommy would never get to see.

She must have thought I was getting fidgety waiting because she held up an outfit and said, “Raquel. This is you. You’ve got to try this on.”

I looked at the black sheer see-through top with red leather piping and said, “What? I’m not wearing that.” When she held up the red leather thong that came with it, I knew she flipped her lid.

“Oh, Come on, Raquel. I’ve been modeling things all evening. It’s time for you to try something on.”

“I’m not the one getting married.”

“Yeah, but you can still have some fun.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is. You want the single chick to put on the sleazy outfit?”

“Ah, come on, I’ve been prancing around in outrageous underwear all evening. You could at least try one outfit to make me feel a bit more comfortable. Besides, with your shiny black hair, this will look incredible.”

Kara sat down on the red velvet upholstered chair in front of the dressing room she had vacated and held up the hanger.

“Oh, all right.” I took the hanger and entered the dressing room. “Kara, I can’t believe you’re talking me into doing this.” I changed into the tight see through top and skimpy thong, then threw open the dressing room door. “Tada!” I raised my arms and jumped out to the seat where I last saw Kara sit.

Kara was no longer there. Instead, a balding 40-year-old man with a pocket book in his lap and shopping bags at his feet stared up at me with his mouth hanging open.

“My wife…” He pointed to the dressing room next to mine. “Er… my wife… she… ah… my wife…”