Page 3 of 3rd Tango
“You never told me that,” Dad says, and I can see he’s now angry at Gayle. Dad is extremely protective of all of us. “Why, that no good bastard. I ought to walk over there and knock his block off!”
Perfect. Could this spin any farther out of control? I jump to my feet, ready to intercept him, even though I feel like confronting Gayle myself. “Let’s take a deep breath.” I turn to Mom. “How exactly did he threaten you?”
“Told me I was a nosy bitch and needed to leave him alone. He went to the woods to get away from everybody, especially his snoopy neighbor. Said he knew I was always watching him, and if I didn’t stop, he’d get a restraining order.”
“Mom,” Meg says, sounding astonished. “What if he is a killer? You could’ve been in serious danger.”
She waves this off. “I had my can of pepper spray, and your father was within shouting distance. That’s not the point.” Another tap of the files. “Last week, I was telling Al about the run-in and he remembered that bodies were discovered buried in that location, and now he has Gayle linked to that area, thanks to my research.”
Okay. That is something, even though it’s still circumstantial. Mostly, I’m relieved she didn’t end up with the other bodies.
“You never should have confronted him,” Dad chastises. “Not without me there to look out for you.”
Wrong thing to say. “I took care of myself and your daughters just fine while you were traveling all over the world. Gave up my career for yours. I think we did just fine.”
She looks at me and nods, encouraging me to support this declaration.
It is true, but I still hold out hope of salvaging our lunch. “You know what? I’m sure Al and his group can continue to assist you in your investigation. Meanwhile, I’d like to finish our meal and talk about something less depressing.”
She slams a hand on top of the folders. “There’s a man next door who’s been murdering young girls foryearsand no one’s done a damn thing about it.”
That’s because there isn’t any actual proof. I’ve had this argument with her many times, and yet, there’s no winning it. Still, this development with the bodies has me curious. I may have to look into it on the downlow while I try to distance my mother from it.
I set my hand on top of hers. “You’re an amazing investigator, and I’m sure that’s where Meg and I inherited our skills,” I attempt to placate her, “but this is the first time JJ and Jerome have had a chance to meet you and Dad. I’m sure they’d prefer to discuss less gruesome things over their food. Let’s get back to something normal.”
Please, I mentally plead.
“Well, guess what? I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m crazy. I’ll make you a deal, Charlize.”
I know I shouldn’t ask, but what else can I do? “Okay, Mom.” I start to pick up the folders, attempting to take this on alone so the others can resume eating. “How about we go in the other room and talk about this deal?”
She won’t take her hand off the stack, pressing down and not allowing me to cart the folders off. “I know I’m right. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll prove Gayle Morton is a serial killer, and you’re going to help me.”
At this point, I simply have to agree in order to pacify her. “Okay, Mom. What can I do?”
“Good.” The tension in her face relaxes slightly. She taps the files. “I want to hire you and your sister.”
“What?”
She nods and smiles. “I’m done playing around. I’m hiring Schock Investigations to help me prove our neighbor is a serial killer.”
2
Meg
I’ve known for a while now my mother is nuts.
The odd part is that neither I nor any of my family members find this to be a big deal. It’s simply the way it is. An accepted part of life. Charlie likes designer shoes, I enjoy micro-dosing weed and Dad loves genealogy.
Mom?
Crazy.
Typical American family.
Except, according to my mother, we have a serial killer across the street. And after this latest news about the three bodies found on Whitetop, I’m beginning to think she isn’t as wacko as we thought. In her day, she was an excellent journalist. Something, in recent years, I’ve tended to not give her enough credit for.
I swing my head to Jerome who stares at the prongs of his fork as if they’ve suddenly sprouted wings. Smart man staying out of this one. Across from me, JJ uses his cloth napkin to hide a smile. Our esteemed United States Attorney for the District of Columbia is amused.
