should I say didn’t find?”
“You’ve got my attention.”
“So my apartment building is old, right?” I
asked.
“Um, okay,” Bobby responded.
“It’s got one of those flat asphalt roofs
with a rubber liner sealing it.”
“Yeah?”
“So why didn’t she leave any foot imprints
leading from the door to…”
“…the edge,” Bobby finished as realization
dawned across his face.
“There should’ve been pictures of shoe prints
in the file, references of dimensions and stuff in the write-up. At
least that’s what Zeke said.”
Bobby swiped a hand across his eyes as if
wiping away sweat, but the shallow cough gave him away. Pain and
heartache radiated from him. I hesitated. We’d gone this far, and
the next question begged to be asked.
I approached it gently. “This leads into
another question.”
A deep breath rattled as his head drooped.
“Shoot.”
“Did Amy ever use any over-the-counter sleep
aids?”
Bobby’s brow furrowed as he raised his head.
“Not that I ever knew.”
My earlier glance into the master bedroom
hadn’t revealed anything on the nightstands but a couple of Bibles,
books and a notepad. Discretion had kept me from rifling through
drawers and the medicine cabinet, so I had to take his word for
it.
Hey, it was Bobby’s bedroom. I had no
intention of crossing that threshold ever again – real or
imagined.
“We have a bonafide mystery on our hands
then,” I said.
“How so?”
“It just so happens a heap of the stuff was
found in her system.”
***
In the two-and-a-half years in my apartment,
I’d had few reasons to bother the super. Paid my rent on time and
took extra special care of my place – well mostly. When the
bi-annual pest control notice hit my door, I made certain me and my
cuddly critter became scarce.
Point in fact – I didn’t want to even think
about him going into my apartment. Jimmy’s appearance kinda gave me
the creeps, what with the scars across his cheek and forehead like
a gang war survivor. One side of his mouth drooped like the nerves
had been cut deep under the surface, and I almost expected to see
drool drip like a ravenous wolf baring its fangs.
Perhaps that’s more an active imagination on
my part. Or too many horror movies. Yeah, we’ll chalk it up to
that.
It had always surprised me though that he’d
been entrusted with such a job, being the face of the
building, that is. Even though he’d always been nice to me on the
rare occasion we spoke – or more like indifferent – I never felt
altogether comfortable in Jimmy’s presence.
After cleaning up from assisting Bobby all
afternoon, I trudged my squeaky-clean rumpus down three flights of
stairs to stand before apartment one-oh-two.
I stood.
And stood.
Working up some cowardly lion courage, I
finally rapped on the door – and froze when Jimmy’s massive bulk
filled the doorway. Three hundred pounds, give or take, and solid
muscle through and through stared me down. His bicep was bigger
than my waistline and the skull tattoo winked at me when he
flexed.
We grow our boys big in the Texas sun. The
brawn comes from God. The scary part? I don’t wanna know.
“Vicki, right?” Jimmy asked.
“Uh, right. From four-oh-seven,” I stuttered
in surprise.
The guy had a good memory, considering the
number of tenants in the building. Couple that with the fact I
didn’t regularly bother him, and color me impressed with his
cognitive function. Or creeped out even more ‘cause he knew who I
was. I’m not that memorable – am I?
“Havin’ a problem?” Jimmy prompted.
“Not exactly a problem. More like a
question.”
“Bout what? And make it quick,” he said as he
glanced behind the door.
He might have company. Tread carefully. “It’s
about that woman who committed suicide last week.”
Dark eyes trailed me up then down as if truly
noticing me for the first time. When they rested again on my face,
the window to the soul snapped shut so fast I almost heard
“You’ve got my attention.”
“So my apartment building is old, right?” I
asked.
“Um, okay,” Bobby responded.
“It’s got one of those flat asphalt roofs
with a rubber liner sealing it.”
“Yeah?”
“So why didn’t she leave any foot imprints
leading from the door to…”
“…the edge,” Bobby finished as realization
dawned across his face.
“There should’ve been pictures of shoe prints
in the file, references of dimensions and stuff in the write-up. At
least that’s what Zeke said.”
Bobby swiped a hand across his eyes as if
wiping away sweat, but the shallow cough gave him away. Pain and
heartache radiated from him. I hesitated. We’d gone this far, and
the next question begged to be asked.
I approached it gently. “This leads into
another question.”
A deep breath rattled as his head drooped.
“Shoot.”
“Did Amy ever use any over-the-counter sleep
aids?”
Bobby’s brow furrowed as he raised his head.
“Not that I ever knew.”
My earlier glance into the master bedroom
hadn’t revealed anything on the nightstands but a couple of Bibles,
books and a notepad. Discretion had kept me from rifling through
drawers and the medicine cabinet, so I had to take his word for
it.
Hey, it was Bobby’s bedroom. I had no
intention of crossing that threshold ever again – real or
imagined.
“We have a bonafide mystery on our hands
then,” I said.
“How so?”
“It just so happens a heap of the stuff was
found in her system.”
***
In the two-and-a-half years in my apartment,
I’d had few reasons to bother the super. Paid my rent on time and
took extra special care of my place – well mostly. When the
bi-annual pest control notice hit my door, I made certain me and my
cuddly critter became scarce.
Point in fact – I didn’t want to even think
about him going into my apartment. Jimmy’s appearance kinda gave me
the creeps, what with the scars across his cheek and forehead like
a gang war survivor. One side of his mouth drooped like the nerves
had been cut deep under the surface, and I almost expected to see
drool drip like a ravenous wolf baring its fangs.
Perhaps that’s more an active imagination on
my part. Or too many horror movies. Yeah, we’ll chalk it up to
that.
It had always surprised me though that he’d
been entrusted with such a job, being the face of the
building, that is. Even though he’d always been nice to me on the
rare occasion we spoke – or more like indifferent – I never felt
altogether comfortable in Jimmy’s presence.
After cleaning up from assisting Bobby all
afternoon, I trudged my squeaky-clean rumpus down three flights of
stairs to stand before apartment one-oh-two.
I stood.
And stood.
Working up some cowardly lion courage, I
finally rapped on the door – and froze when Jimmy’s massive bulk
filled the doorway. Three hundred pounds, give or take, and solid
muscle through and through stared me down. His bicep was bigger
than my waistline and the skull tattoo winked at me when he
flexed.
We grow our boys big in the Texas sun. The
brawn comes from God. The scary part? I don’t wanna know.
“Vicki, right?” Jimmy asked.
“Uh, right. From four-oh-seven,” I stuttered
in surprise.
The guy had a good memory, considering the
number of tenants in the building. Couple that with the fact I
didn’t regularly bother him, and color me impressed with his
cognitive function. Or creeped out even more ‘cause he knew who I
was. I’m not that memorable – am I?
“Havin’ a problem?” Jimmy prompted.
“Not exactly a problem. More like a
question.”
“Bout what? And make it quick,” he said as he
glanced behind the door.
He might have company. Tread carefully. “It’s
about that woman who committed suicide last week.”
Dark eyes trailed me up then down as if truly
noticing me for the first time. When they rested again on my face,
the window to the soul snapped shut so fast I almost heard
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