Judge Me When I'm Wrong Page 18

  “It’s hard to keep something like that away from the media too long. My buddy said they were alerted this morning to have extra sheriffs on hand,” Don said. “The district attorney’s office and the FBI informed them a couple of days ago that something was going down today.”

  “So that’s why Spivak and Gleason didn’t seem surprised,” Charlie said.

  “Don, did your guy know anything more about Thompson?” Gil asked.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that. We were wrong about Thompson being bumped off by Canova. The FBI has him,” Don said. “He cut some kind of deal. He’s been assuring Canova that everything was still all right and that he’d get either a hung jury or a not guilty decision.”

  The Mack partners listened open-mouthed as Charlie recounted the final tense scene in the jury room. Judy smiled as Charlie described the actions of the clerk, and Gil nodded when Charlie speculated that the removal of the planted FBI agent was to maintain his undercover status.

  “Did everyone go quietly?” Don asked.

  “I think Trina caused the biggest scene. The Fashionista girl,” Charlie said in response to the question mark on Gil’s face. “I know. It was hard to keep up with all the names.”

  “What did she do, break a nail?” Judy wisecracked.

  “No, but she tried to shake the bailiff’s hand off her arm, and acted like a prima donna, so she was handcuffed. She was a snappy dresser, but not a nice person. Clint had a crush on her, so I think having that last memory of her will help him get over it fast. Now that everything is over, the thing I feel best about is how Mr. Naidu and Clint acted to do the right thing.”

  “I hear you and Mandy have been talking things through,” Judy said, smiling.

  Charlie gave her a questioning look.

  “I called her to check on Hamm,” Judy explained.

  “We have. She gave me some things to think about. Why didn’t you all try to talk me down?”

  Don, Gil and Judy stared at her with an astonishment that said it all. Even the temporary assistant, Tamela, glanced up from her task. She quickly looked away, but not before Charlie saw the beginnings of an eye-roll.

  Chapter 24

  Friday

  Charlie had gotten home by eleven and prepared a large bowl of tuna salad with all her favorite ingredients: mayo, diced egg, pimiento olives, red onions, celery, and relish. Hamm monitored her work. A bowl of potato chips and a plate of wheat crackers were already on the dining table. She was spinning salad greens at the kitchen counter when Mandy came through the front door, greeted Hamm, and hung her holster on the clothes tree. Charlie met her in the vestibule for a welcome home kiss.

  Mandy still had a small bruise on her left cheek, and a few scrapes on her hands that hadn’t quite healed, but she was other-wise her normal gorgeous self. Her thick red hair was always tied up in a band when she was on duty, but in her well-fitting, tan and dark brown uniform, she still looked like a model in a police recruitment ad.

  “Do I have time to change?”

  “Aren’t you going back to work?”

  “No. I took a half-day.”

  “Gil and Jason should be here any minute, so if you wouldn’t mind could you just wash your hands and slice some tomatoes to garnish the plates?”

  Mandy appraised the table as she passed through the dining room, then stopped at the counter where Charlie was layering greens on four dinner plates.

  “What did you make?”

  “Tuna salad.”

  Mandy was motionless for a moment, then moved to the refrigerator, grabbed a package from the meat drawer, and turned on the stove’s broiler.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cooking some bratwurst. You are not going to feed tuna salad to a twenty-year-old boy in my house.”

  “Why?”

  “He won’t like it.”

  “But I put all the good stuff in it. Olives, relish, egg.”

  “Did you put chunks of beef or pizza in it? If you didn’t, he’s not going to like it.”

  “So, you know this how? Wait, don’t say it. Because you had a brother and I didn’t.”

  Mandy placed two brats on the broiling pan.

  “I hate cleaning that pan,” Charlie complained.

  “You won’t have to do it. I will.”

  “Do we have any baked beans?” Mandy asked, rummaging through the cupboards. “Some frozen French fries?”

  “No.”

  “Well, the chips will have to do. Oh, but we do have pretzels.”

  Mandy added the pretzel bowl and jars of mustard and ketchup on the table. Charlie selected place mats and napkins from the sideboard.

  “Are you going to change clothes?” Charlie asked.

  “I need to stand by the stove and watch those brats,” Mandy replied. “The broiler’s on the highest setting.”

  Hamm’s hopping and barking at the front door signaled Gil and Jason’s arrival.

  “They’re here,” Charlie yelled over her shoulder and moved to the front door. Hamm was so excited she had to grab him by the collar to yank him away from the door. “It’s okay, boy. We have a new visitor, and Gil. You know Gil.”

  Charlie opened the door with a smile and pulled Hamm back a half step. But it wasn’t Gil and Jason at her threshold; it was Mandy’s skinny assailant. He stepped through the door with a Taser, and fired it at Hamm. Charlie cried out as a second man, the one Charlie had last seen without pants at the MLK apartments, pushed the barrel of a gun into her gut. Charlie’s shout and Hamm’s yelp brought Mandy running to the front of the house. Now the skinny man also brandished a gun, and he pointed it at Mandy, bringing her to an abrupt stop. Mandy looked at Hamm trembling on the floor, and prepared to charge the skinny man.

  “Don’t be foolish, lady,” the bigger guy said. “I’ll kill you before you even get near that dog. Sit down,” he ordered. He pointed the gun at Charlie’s head. “You too.”

  Charlie reached back for Mandy’s hand and shifted away from the door. “Do what he says, Honey.”

  “So, you two really are, like, dykes. I didn’t believe it when Mr. C told me. Two good- looking women like you.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, an idea forming, as he looked between Charlie and Mandy.

  “If my dog dies, I’ll kill you,” Charlie said.

  The man coughed a laugh. “That’s funny, because I plan on killing you. You’ve been nothing but trouble to me and my livelihood. Because of you, I don’t have a job, and I have to get out of town. So, I’m going to rob you and then kill you.”

  “You didn’t say anything about killing anybody, Raymond,” the skinny guy said in a weak voice.

  “Shut up, man. Go get two chairs and find something to tie these bitches with.”

  Charlie held onto Mandy’s hand and squeezed it to signal stay calm. Mandy squeezed back. Hamm was still down and unmoving, but he was breathing steadily. The man called Raymond took a few steps into the living room. He looked at the TV and the Bose speaker system. He picked up the silver picture frame with the photo of Charlie’s father and mother.

  “You got some nice stuff here,” he said as if he were an invited guest or an antiques appraiser. Then he shouted toward the rear of the house. “You find anything yet to tie them up?”

  “Not yet. I’m looking under the sink for some twist ties.”

  Charlie’s backpack was on the coffee table, and Raymond picked it up. Keeping his gun pointed toward them, he unzipped it and lifted out her laptop and purse. “Oh yeah. Now we’re talking.”

  Charlie tapped Mandy’s palm and nodded to her gun holster on the clothes tree. Mandy returned the tap.

  Raymond was using both hands now to get into Charlie’s wallet. Charlie heard a car pull into the driveway, but so did Raymond. He dropped the wallet and ran to the window. Suddenly, the burning bratwurst caused the smoke alarm’s shrill scream to fill the house. Raymond, startled, turned toward the kitchen. In one swift move, Charlie lifted from the floor and flung herself at
the man, tackling him at the waist. He fell hard on his face, and his gun skittered under the dining table. Raymond kicked at Charlie, but pinning his hand in a painful position, she flipped him over and expertly looped her arm around his neck.

  The skinny man sprinted into the dining room, but realizing his gun was still in the kitchen, he sprinted back. Instead of retrieving his pistol he fumbled with the back door until he flung it open. When Mandy’s bullet whizzed over his shoulder, he stopped, turned, and raised his hands in surrender.

  At the sound of the gunshot, Jason and Gil, who had been pounding the front door, crashed through it like the offensive line of the Detroit Lions. They skidded on the broken door and landed in a heap on the foyer floor. With both front and back doors now open, the screeching smoke alarm finally fell silent.

  Sprawled on the dining-room floor, Charlie held Raymond in a rear choke hold, her legs wrapped tightly around his torso. He was fifty pounds heavier, but they were equal in height, and he was losing oxygen. He flailed hard. His elbows pounded into Charlie’s sides, and he pulled at her arms. He reached up to grab her head, but she evaded his efforts. In about fifteen seconds his legs began to quiet, and he could only slap at Charlie’s arms around his neck.

  “Stop, Charlie, you’re killing him,” Gil shouted, leaning over them.

  “I told him I would.”

  The terrifying calmness of her own voice snapped Charlie back to awareness. Only then did she stop resisting Gil’s efforts to pry her arms and legs away from the unconscious man.

  In the kitchen, the skinny man lay facedown. Mandy had retrieved his gun from the sink and turned off the stove. Her own gun drawn, she squatted next to him.

  “Are you the one who hit my dog in the head?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him, lady, uh, officer. I just wanted him to stop coming at me.”

  “And you didn’t mean to tase him either. Put your arms behind your back.”

  Mandy handcuffed the man to the refrigerator door and went to check on Charlie, who sat against the dining-room wall, knees lifted and head buried in her folded arms. Gil stood over the revived Raymond, and signaled to Mandy that Charlie was all right. Then Mandy rushed to the foyer where she saw Hamm cradled on Jason’s lap. The dog’s body still trembled from the tasing, but he wagged his tail twice when Mandy said his name. Jason looked at Mandy, wide-eyed and ashen.

  “Hi,” she said, sitting next to him on the floor. “I’m Mandy. Welcome to our home.”

  # # #

  A Detroit police crime unit remained at the house three hours collecting guns, assailants, and explanations. The Grosse Pointe Park police stayed an additional hour to make sure their own officer was okay and had provided a full account of the discharge of her firearm. Don and Judy wanted to rush over, but Charlie assured them that she, Mandy, Hamm, Gil and Jason were all right, and they should keep doing the work of the office. Don said he’d check with the police and FBI to find out what he could about Canova’s role, if any, in the home invasion.

  Gil supervised the three-person locksmith crew who resecured the front door frame and put a new lock on the scraped, but intact, door. The cut-out panes were temporarily replaced with plexiglass.

  Jason did like tuna salad. He ate two plates, all the chips, a lot of the pretzels, and a pitcher of lemonade. Hamm got a special one-time treat of a tiny bit of heavily charred bratwurst. Hamm and Jason had become buddies, and while Charlie, Mandy, and Gil answered the questions of police and a few neighbors, the two retreated to the quiet of the basement where Hamm got cuddles and treats, and Jason watched TV.

  When Charlie, Mandy, and Gil finally made their way to the basement sanctuary, Jason and Hamm were both rolled up on the couch asleep.

  “I’m sorry this turned out to be so . . . so crazy,” Charlie said, after shaking Jason awake.

  “So, are you some kind of ninja badass?” Jason asked.

  “I’m not too proud of what happened. I lost my head,” Charlie said apologetically.

  “. . . and she has a couple of black belts,” Gil said. “And has studied a few different martial art forms. So, she is a ninja badass.”

  “Wow,” was all Jason managed to say.

  “So, young man,” Mandy spoke up. Then realized she sounded like her father, and started over. “Jason, I’d hoped to meet you under calmer circumstances. Gil said you wanted to talk to Charlie and me.”

  Jason looked at Gil, ducked his head, and reached over to rub Hamm, who sat next to Mandy’s leg. Gil had described him as a confident, almost cocky, young college man who had grown up in privilege and high expectations. Right now, with his socks off, and sleep still in his eyes, he looked like Mr. and Mrs. Ferry’s little boy.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d like to talk to you and Ms. Mack about . . . about what it’s like being gay.”

  “Well, first of all, please don’t call me ma’am. I haven’t had time to take off my uniform, but here we’re just people like you.”

  Hamm jumped on the couch next to Jason, requesting to be petted, which seemed to free Jason to speak. He told them he had known about his attraction to other boys when he was a young teen. His mother hadn’t made him ashamed of those feelings, but had warned he shouldn’t tell his father. Although Jason and his father were close, that secret had stood between them for seven years. He had faked his way as a ladies’ man through high school, but in college, had begun to explore his feelings and urges away from campus. He thought nobody knew about his sexuality, but after his arrest for the Maya Hebert assault, his secret had caught up with him.

  “It’s the main reason I didn’t speak up before now. It wasn’t so much that it would affect me at school. I don’t care about that so much anymore. I’ve even thought about transferring to another college. I have friends in Grand Rapids who lead their lives as openly gay men. I think I really want that for myself, but it would embarrass Dad.”

  “Are you very sure about that?” Mandy asked.

  Jason glanced at Charlie. “I know my father.”

  “I came out to the world when I was in high school,” Mandy said. “My parents were great about it, but I know that’s not everyone’s experience.”

  “No, it’s not,” Charlie said.

  “Charlie and I have talked about the difference for blacks and whites when it comes to being gay or lesbian. She’s told me it’s harder because it’s still true that being black in America already comes with burdens.”

  Jason’s eyes lit up with the appreciation of being understood. “That’s it, exactly. Dad always told me I had a lot to prove as a black man. He and his friends still talk about it all the time. He cares, a lot, what people think of him . . . and his family.”

  “I never really came out,” Charlie said. “I had male and female sex partners, starting in high school. My father died when I was twelve, and my mother and I never really talked about those kinds of things.”

  “So, are you bisexual?” Jason asked.

  “I don’t really do the labels. I’ve been married before—to a very nice guy—but I wasn’t happy. I know that I love Mandy. That’s what I told my mother, but it wasn’t easy for her to understand at first.”

  “So how did you get her to understand?”

  The questions, answers, and personal anecdotes went on for three hours. Mandy changed her uniform and put more bratwurst in the broiler. This time they didn’t burn, and Hamm didn’t get a sample. Charlie pulled four beers from the small refrigerator by the bar, and they talked while they ate.

  At eight o’clock Gil drove Jason home, and Charlie and Mandy moved through the house, cleaning up and discussing the harrowing day they’d been through.

  “Tomorrow I’m mopping the kitchen, foyer, and dining room with bleach,” Charlie said.

  “Purging the danger and bad vibes?”

  “Something like that.”

  “We have the whole weekend to reclaim our space. It began tonight with the chance to talk to Jason. It was good to eat and drink a beer with friends
. To do something normal in our home on the same day something so abnormal occurred.”

  “I almost killed that guy,” Charlie said quietly. “If Gil hadn’t stopped me, he’d be dead.”

  “Not that he didn’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you didn’t. Are your ribs still sore?”

  “They’ll be sore for a few days, and he scratched up my arms pretty good, too. The asshole. I’m surprised you didn’t pistol-whip that skinny guy. You were ready to take him down when he had the Taser.”

  “It had something to do with being in uniform. I really wanted to hurt him for hurting Hamm. I would have too if I had been just Mandy Porter, citizen.”

  “You think the neighbors want us to move?”

  “No. I spoke with the guy next door. He saw Gil and Jason crash through the door, and he heard the smoke alarm. At first, he thought the house was on fire. I explained that we managed to find the guys who attacked me and Hamm. He was happy about that. It’s fortunate that on a weekday at noon most of our neighbors are still at work.”

  “So, we can stay?”

  “For the time being. Ready to go upstairs?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I think I’ll sleep good tonight.”

  “I hope I can,” Charlie said.

  Chapter 25

  On the Tuesday following Charlie’s jury duty, Jason’s grand jury appearance, and the traumatic home invasion, things were slowly getting back to normal in the Mack offices. Judy checked the file folders the temp had organized. Charlie sat at her desk returning a week’s worth of phone calls, and Don cleaned his gun. Gil was back from a trip to Kalamazoo—a final time to give support to Mr. and Mrs. Ferry and Jason, whose grand jury testimony had resulted in the indictment of four members of the Gamma squared fraternity. Jason’s misdemeanor charge had been dropped, but he would have to testify in several more trials.

  The Mack partner meetings happened once a month, and Judy always brought in Danish, fruit, and juice. In those meetings Charlie, Don, Gil and Judy discussed the status of the agency’s coffers, and did long-term planning. But the updates on cases, clients, and personal issues were a higher priority than the strategy conversation today. Charlie began with a report on her house and neighborhood.