Getting Mad....and Even

By Joanna Carroll

Investigative journalist, Meg Witt, is looking into a story unfolding in her own Payson, Arizona backyard. There’s usually more than meets the eye when something unexpectedly plunges or conversely rises like a phoenix from the ashes. A local property management company has gone from the brink of bankruptcy to seemingly an overnight success. But unraveling the truths from the lies has Meg spinning in circles until a series of encouraging notes take her down pathways she never considered. She uncovers a suicide and an accident that has the pungent aroma of murder and the next one might be her own as the author of the notes becomes frustrated that the pathways she’s chosen were not the ones intended.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanna Carroll
• Release date: Sep 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781300049326

Joanna Carroll

Joanna lives in an Arizona desert home that she and her husband built....well, mostly he built it. She has two sons, two daughters-by-love and three grandchildren. As a corporate trainer and training executive, she has traveled all over the world and met so many wonderful people. The sights, sounds and warm memories cataloged for future stories! Please stop by Joanna's blog located at readjoannacarroll.wordpress.com/. You'll get recipes of the yummy dishes featured and by clicking "Follow" you'll get notice of all new releases. Other interests include helping those in business, non-profits, clubs and organizations succeed by improving their soft (essential) skills and serving as Your Business Skills Coach. Her blog yourbizskillscoach.wordpress.com/ has lots of info, ideas and a forum for sharing your business experiences. Joanna also loves to share tips and techniques used to build their beautiful custom dream home in the desert. The blog custombuiltbyyou.wordpress.com/ has great stories and pictures to help you replicate these customizable ideas! Thanks so much for visiting! Enjoy Meg's adventures!

Book preview

Getting Mad…..and Even

By

Joanna Carroll

Getting Mad and Even

Joanna Carroll

Version 1.0

Copyright © 2012 JoAnn Simpson

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-300-04932-6

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Chapter 1

May 1960

It’s a shame, the twinkly-eyed woman said.

Yes. The poor child is all alone now, said the one who smelled like moth balls.

They gazed indifferently toward the six-year-old girl in the worn brown cotton jumper. Neither of the two older women cared a lick about the little girl or had any great attachment to the woman in the coffin for that matter. They circled the room slowly like slobbering coyotes hungry for a juicy tidbit.

I wonder what will become of her, Twinkly said in a stage whisper in deference to the body just a few feet away.

Maybe this old man who’s turned up from nowhere will take her. Who is he anyway? Smelly asked.

That’s Lois’s brother.

I should’ve known. He looks just like her….same nose and eyes. Strong family features. I wonder why the child doesn’t bear the same family resemblance.

Twinkly basked in her moment of glory. Her neighbor was always the first one to hear the neighborhood gossip. She couldn’t believe she didn’t know. She thought everyone knew. She didn’t mention it before because nothing she had to say was ever news to her neighbor. Whenever she did tell her something she considered newsworthy, her neighbor would roll her eyes and make some noise of disgust as if she were a dog bringing in last month’s newspaper from under the bushes.

What? What are you looking so pleased about?

Wanting to play it for all it was worth, Twinkly glanced around the room furtively. A ridiculous action since they were the only ones in the room; except for the little girl. Well, I heard. And, well, I thought you already knew. In fact, I thought everyone knew.

Knew what? Clearly un-amused with the game Twinkly was now playing.

Lois’s daughter was raped by some maniac who broke out of the nut house for a night. Apparently, she and her boyfriend were having relations, if you know what I mean.

Of course, I know what you mean. The child probably knows what you mean. Any attempt to keep their voices at a reverent, pious level was about as effective as a colander full of water.

Shhh, the child. Anyway, Twinkly continued, she convinced him that the baby was his and they got married right off. Clearly the child doesn’t bear any resemblance to Lois’s family or the boy’s family.

Well, then I doubt that the old man will take her.

What man?

What man? she said incredulously. Who were we talking about? Lois’s brother.

Oh, oh yes.

I’d heard he’s going to be here just long enough to close out and take what money he can. And if he hasn’t heard about the child’s past already, it’s clear just looking at her that she’s no kin of his. I suppose the child will end up in an orphanage then, Smelly said. They both shrugged their shoulders unconcerned.

Maybe I’ll take her, Twinkly said looking down at her knarled hands.

You? Why would you bother with the likes of her?

I think it would be the Christian thing to do, Twinkly said piously.

Smelly stole a quick glance at Twinkly, wondering what she was up to. There wasn’t a Christian bone in her body. She lied, cheated, stole and gossiped mercilessly. She knew because she cheated, lied, stole and gossiped right along with her. There must be an angle. She didn’t want to put Twinkly on guard, so she gazed about the room, nonchalantly stealing an occasional glance to see if something in her expression would give away her scheme.

The room was quite large with space for 30 - 40 mourners. Dark red flocked wallpaper and heavy red velvet curtains gave it the proper feeling of doom and gloom. Chipped gray metal folding chairs that groaned, snapped, and cracked with the smallest of pressure as they sat down finished off the room. No flowers. No close friends or family dabbing their tears with lace trimmed white hankies. Just the little girl, the body in the unadorned pine box, and the two old biddies waiting to see who would show up so they could have someone new to talk about.

It’s a shame, Twinkly said once again, seemingly forced into the same endless loop of conversation that they began 30 minutes ago.

Smelly returned her averted eyes to her neighbor. Yet unwilling to get pulled into the conversation that Twinkly was devising. How long had she been living with Lois’s body before anyone found out? Smelly asked as she jerked her head in the direction of the little girl with the drooping mismatched socks.

Well, I know that I saw Lois last Sunday at church. By the way, I didn’t see you there, Twinkly said.

My hip was bothering me so bad that day. I had a hard time getting out of bed, Smelly rubbed her hip tenderly. She couldn’t really remember which hip supposedly gave her all her pain and agony. She was counting on the fact that her neighbor wouldn’t be able to remember either.

Hmp. Twinkly figured rightly that more than likely her neighbor had had too much Mogen David the night before and slept through church….again.

Well, I heard her drunken old man come home Monday night. He tripped over my garbage can and stepped on my cat. The noise he made could’ve woke the dead.

Twinkly gave her a sharp look. That was a totally inappropriate comment considering where they were. Smelly rolled her eyes at her pious neighbor and continued. Anyway, that was sometime after ten o’clock Monday night. I heard her giving him what for and him swearing back at her. So, she was alive on Monday night.

Twinkly had a pained expression on her face. Later the little girl would learn that was her thoughtful look. Let me see, Twinkly said stroking her face and rubbing her fingers over the hairy mole that poised on the end of her chin. It was Wednesday night, I think, when I was listening to the radio.

Were you listening to that nonsense that happened in Nashville?

Can you believe it? Those colored folk are getting awfully uppity.

Sitting at lunch counters like white people.

The nerve.

I heard one of them being interviewed and going on about being all created equal in the eyes of God.

It’s that King fella. He says that it’s right there in the Bible.

If everyone was equal then why did Paul bother saying things about slaves and masters?

That’s right. It should be pretty clear to everyone that some folks are meant to be masters and others are meant to be slaves.

Or at the very least, they should know their place.

After a few minutes of silence Smelly asked, So anyway, what about Wednesday night?

Twinkly with the pained expression said, I told you I was listening to that nonsense about the colored folks.

Smelly, clearly irritated by her friend’s lack of ability to track a conversation, rolled her eyes. What, if anything, does that have to do with Lois?

Lois? Lois’s not colored.

I know that. We were, if you’ll remember, trying to remember when the last time we knew that Lois was alive.

Oh, well, of course, Twinkly said picking invisible lint from her flowered dress. As I was saying, I heard a crash and saw a flash of light. Like someone had thrown a lamp.

From what I hear, Smelly said looking around the room with narrowed eyes, they found a lamp smashed against the wall in the living room right next to her body.

Twinkly dug a handkerchief out of the pocket of her housedress and blotted her upper lip. She waited for the accusation from her neighbor that she should have called and reported the incident. But things like that happened in that house all the time. Lois let them know that their kind concerns brought nothing but grief to her and the child after the authorities left….on the odd occasion when they actually showed up. Twinkly stole a glance at her neighbor. It appeared that no reproach was coming.

So, Smelly said while looking rather pleased with herself, it would appear that the deed was done on Wednesday night.

That means that the child was alone with her body for two full days. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

I hear, Smelly said her eyes darting around the vacant room to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, that if it wasn’t for the fact that she was overdue on her bill to the milkman that it might have been far longer before anyone discovered her. Good thing it’s been on the cool side. They both shuddered.

Another long silence ensued as the two contemplated their new found information.

It’s a shame, Twinkly said.

Now what?

Well, I was just thinking. I wonder if her brother would allow me to retrieve my beautiful, white lace shawl that I had lent Lois.

"Your white lace shawl! Just because you look at something and admire it, doesn’t mean that it’s yours."

Well, what’s he going to do with it? Probably just sell it or throw it in the garbage. Someone who was as close to Lois as I was should have something to remember her by. Besides, I would just be keeping it for the child until she was old enough to appreciate her inheritance.

Smelly clearly liked the way this conversation was going. Yes, I agree. You should get your white lace shawl back. Maybe I’ll go with you and see if I can get my brooch back at the same time. Then I could pass it onto the child too. Poor thing. She would’ve mustered more sentiment if she just discovered she’d run out of milk for her coffee.

The sickening sweet look each had on their faces would make a diabetic go into a coma just by eye contact.

What does he do? Twinkly asked her informed neighbor.

Who, the brother?

Yes, yes, Lois’s brother. What does he do? I’m sure you’ve heard by now.

What is that supposed to mean? Smelly’s nose rose in such a fashion that Twinkly could actually see up her hairy schnaz.

Not wanting her gossipy neighbor to clam up on her now, she attempted to soothe her indignation. I know how busy you are all day….going here and there….hearing this and that, she said batting her watery blue eyes as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. I just supposed you might have overheard something.

Smelly lowered her nose and considered her neighbor through narrowed eyes. She wasn’t quite sure if she was trying to butter her up or did she really think highly of her. On one hand, there wasn’t a high thought in her head, so she was probably insulting her. On the other hand, the only alternative to giving up some information was either talking to the child or going home to sit alone. Neither of those seemed like choices.

Yes, you’re quite right. Yesterday while running errands, I did happen to hear someone say that he was a newspaperman. Her one eyebrow shot up like someone had just hooked her with an errant fishhook.

Oh a newspaperman, I see, Twinkly said snickering behind her handkerchief. That’s what that smell is about him….printer’s ink!

Yes, printer’s ink, Smelly chimed in. I hear it’s somewhat of a family profession. It seems like the family has many, hmp, newspapermen. Lots of printers ink flowing around that house.

I dabble in writing sometimes myself.

Don’t we all. They guffawed loudly despite the inappropriate setting.

Well, Twinkly said as she scooted towards the front of her chair so she could hoist her meaty frame from the chair. I really must be running along.

What’s your hurry? Her neighbor said as she put a halting hand on her arm.

Um, well, it’s just that. . . . She didn’t want to let her in on her plan just yet. She knew that her neighbor was far craftier than she. The child coming to live with her would be a dream come true. She would teach her to cook, do the wash, clean up and oh so many more things. Her poor arthritic fingers would get the rest they so richly deserved.

All she needed to do was call the pastor. She was sure he would know what to do to put this plan into motion. She was also sure that the pastor would support her in the endeavor since he surely wouldn’t want the child end up in an orphanage. She just needed to get to make the phone call before her unsuspecting neighbor figured out what a glorious plan it was. The easy life was just a phone call away.

Chapter 2

Present Day

The biggest trouble with portable phones is that one doesn’t have the pleasure of slamming the phone down in someone’s ear. The best one can do is jab the off button forceful, and that’s just what she did.

When she recognized the caller’s voice, or rather his hiss, she wandered across the kitchen through the dining room and out the French doors onto the redwood deck. She certainly didn’t want Mark, her husband, to know that she was receiving another one of those anonymous phone calls. It had been his typical phone call; threatening her to keep her nose out of things that didn’t concern her. Like that was even possible. As a journalist, she had a role to play - that of being a watchdog for the public welfare. She felt strongly that not only did it ensure the maintenance of basic freedoms but was essential in exposing corruption in business and in government.

Currently, her biggest concerns were far less global and a lot closer to home. Apparently, Joshua, her eight-year-old son answered the phone yesterday. The hisser probably didn’t even know until then that she had a son. Not that for the most part the Hisser would care one way or the other about Meg Witt’s family life, except now he had leverage. It seemed as if he’d really taken exception to her total disregard of his empty threats. Now, however, he had her full and undivided attention. Instead of just threatening her, he intimated that harm might come to Josh if she didn’t keep her nose clean. Now those were fightin’ words.

She caught her reflection in the window and quickly reached up to pinch her cheeks. One look at that pasty white complexion and Mark would definitely know something was wrong. They’d moved to Payson, Arizona, to have a quieter life. They were looking for someplace out of the hustle and bustle to raise their son. Currently, she was supposed to be working on the Great American Novel, so she’d have more flexibility with her schedule. That was until, her former editor from the Arizona Republic had called to give her a lead on a hot story that he believed might have some potential. Since it was happening right in her backyard, so to speak, he thought of her first. What a guy!

Mark would be livid if he knew she’d accepted the assignment. Well, technically, she’d just told him that she’d look around and check into it for him. After all, it was going to be difficult to just turn her back on journalism cold turkey. Yes, there was that book she was going to write, but realistically wouldn’t it be smoother to ease into it? She needed a transition assignment. Oh brother! None of that sounded very convincing, so it was unlikely that Mark would ever fall for a load of donkey dung like that.

The wind rushing through the pine tops sounded like a speeding train far in the distance. The sound made her smile. After their first night in their new home, she begged Mark to go out and buy a topographical map that showed roads, streams and everything else, including railroad tracks. She was sure they’d made a mistake in buying the property and a train would be rumbling past the house every day.

Listening to the wind in the treetops helped the anger and frustrations begin to ebb away. The bright June, Saturday morning would soon have the smells of fresh brewed coffee and bacon mingling with the fragrant mixture of pinion, juniper and pine. The campers, who enjoyed pitching their tents in her backyard, provided the lovely aromas. Well, technically, it was the Tonto National Forest, but only three thin strands of barbed wire separated their property from the forest.

A sound from within the house caused her to turn and look. She anticipated seeing either Mark or Josh traipse out onto the deck. They would most likely be in search of food. Their stomachs must not have been grumbling yet. What she did catch sight of was the Humpty Dumpty cookie jar sitting on top of the refrigerator. The Hisser mentioned that he hoped Josh didn’t have a big fall like Humpty Dumpty. If he intended for that comment to frazzle her, he would be glad to know that….it worked.

He said next time he would try to make a point of stopping by when they were home, so they could all have a nice little visit. He even asked about her plans for today. That’s when she hung up on him, so to speak. So much for relaxing. Her stomach felt like a refrigerator can of biscuits. One little nudge and it was going to explode. The nudge was forthcoming.

Looking around at the tree tops, it hadn’t suddenly become breezier, so why was every hair on her body standing on its respective tiptoes? Talk about your overactive imagination. Right up until she heard the creak behind her. That’s the moment when your body must decide does it go for flight or go for the fight? No doubt about it. In that split second of time she decided on fight by using her body as a force behind the only weapon she had readily available….the phone. She whirled around and nailed him in the head just above his left eyebrow.

All right, Megan Ann Witt, that seals it! Mark grabbed her offending hand with one hand and his eye with the other.

Oh Mark, I’m so sorry. She pulled free from his grasp and headed back in the house for some ice for his eye.

Monday morning when I leave for New Mexico, you and Josh are coming with me. He trailed after her squinting his left eye and trying to look forceful. It wasn’t working.

Don’t start that again. She slipped the ice cubes into the plastic bag, wrapping it all in a dish towel. We’ll be there in five weeks just as we planned.

What do you mean ‘we planned’? I’ve never liked this idea. You’re supposed to be writing your novel so we can travel together. And, you apparently don’t feel safe enough to be here alone or you wouldn’t have bashed me in the head. He pressed the make-shift ice pack against his eye and winced.

They had just changed their entire life around. Meg quit her job to write and homeschool Josh. They would be able to travel with Mark all the time instead of just short trips that worked around school and Meg’s job. Mark accepted the position of architect/project manager with Rockies West Development with the understanding that he'd split his time between on-site projects and working from home just outside of Payson. The raise he received, due to the added responsibilities as project manager, would off-set the lack of income generated by Meg. It was going to be a dramatic shift in lifestyle and income level, but they’d saved and invested wisely for ten years to make this dream a reality.

Currently Mark was overseeing three projects all over the West. The one in New Mexico had suddenly developed a barrage of set-backs. Geological surveys from the sub-contractor that they’d used were proving to be less than accurate. The result was ground shifts making the foundations rupture and move. Mark had flown back and forth a number of times over the past few weeks. It was becoming apparent he would have to be on-site full-time for the next several months until he could rectify the most grueling of the concerns.

You’re blowing things totally out of proportion. You startled me. That was just a natural reaction.

Meg, I’ve come up behind you and kissed the back of your neck a hundred times. I’ve never been rewarded this way before. He angled the toaster to get a look at his eye.

Sidestepping the issue at hand, she backed up to the previous conversation. You know that Josh and I like traveling with you, she said as she brushed his salt and pepper hair from his forehead. These plans were made for Josh long before this New Mexico job decided to have problems. I don’t know who’s looking more forward to his visit with my folks, Josh or them. And then there’s camp. He’s been looking forward to that ever since his eighth birthday. We can’t just pull the rug out from under him now. Remember, the original plans called for all of us to leave together, two weeks after Josh returned from camp.

She wasn’t really telling him anything he didn’t already know. Mark liked a planned and orderly life….no surprises. This new position of expanding his duties had the potential of developing a whole new side to his personality. The question was….would it be a gentle development or one that he would submit to kicking and screaming the entire way?

I know you’re right. I’ll see if I can continue troubleshooting the job from here for another month.

That’s crazy. She knew that he wouldn’t be going in the first place if he could continue from home. More importantly, she knew there’d be no way to thoroughly investigate this story with him hanging around. Things were already not going well. His presence would just muck things up. And then there was this little conflict of interest thing that looked as if it would materialize. Nope, she certainly didn’t need him hanging around.

It’s agreed. We can’t disrupt Josh’s life just because it’s more convenient for us. Okay, because it’s not convenient for me, he said after catching her raised eyebrow. And I certainly can’t continue troubleshooting from here or I wouldn’t be going in the first place.

I hear a ‘but’ coming, she said rinsing off the peeled hard boiled eggs under the running water in the sink.

But....

See, I knew there was a but.

But, he continued, I don’t see any other alternative. I’m certainly not going to leave you here in danger.

Danger? What danger? There’s no danger.

Look, he said lifting the hair from his forehead, do I have stupid written up here? I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in this time. Life with you Megan is nothing short of an adventure, but I’m not thrilled with the idea that strange men are calling my house and threatening my wife.

A mistake she’d never make again. None of her other investigative forays had netted this type of reaction. Mark had been standing next to her the first couple of times the Hisser called and he saw how much it distressed her. The intensity of the call caught her off guard more than anything. Meg hadn’t even uncovered anything noteworthy yet, or had she? Anyway, the threats had proved to be just that….threats with no action. Boy, he’d really hit the roof if he knew that Josh was the target of those threats too.

If you’d just tell me who or what the story was about I’d at least feel better.

She was real sure if he knew he’d just feel worse and not better.