AN: So here's the deal, I'm going to be honest with you all. I have a kid who has ADHD and about three other learning disabilities, who, in non covid times, goes to a special school for kids with his issues. Thanks to Covid and a husband with an autoimmune disorder, my kids, like so many others, are doing distance learning, and it's frankly, kicking my ass. I'm amazed at the teachers out there who do this every day, and aren't completely burnt out. I have to supervise a daughter who is more or less self sufficient, and a son who is not and I have zero energy at the end of the day. I can't imagine a classroom full. To you teachers out there, I bow down to you. You are incredible and wonderful. All that being said, it leaves me with little brain energy at the end of the day to devote to my writing. Some days are great and I'm confident in what I put on that daunting blank screen and other days... well I type two words, close my computer and watch ancient episodes of Law and Order. I promise this story is going to be posted. I'm not abandoning it. I will not leave you hanging and I'm going to get the rest of this up sooner or later if it kills me but I will not post anything that I don't think is worthy of my lovely readers. I beg you to continue to bear with me through the sporadic postings. Now please enjoy this chapter while I try to figure out where I put my sense of humour, because in the next chapter, as part of Lula's baby shower, you will be treated to a conversation that I swear to God happened in real life and had my daughter and I scratching our heads for days afterwards.
I woke up at 8:30 on the nose and got dressed in my Rangeman Uniform. I wanted to look threatening for a change. Ranger turned me around, marched me into our bedroom, stripped me, had his way with me, and reminded me that I was going to a baby shower at noon. So I showered and put on one of my Florida dresses, a kaftan I had grown particularly fond of, and I got into my car and made my way to the Button Factory.
I'd previously been employed at this particular establishment for less than 18 hours. I got the job, showed up late for work on my first day, refused to perform sexual favours involving fluids with my boss, and got fired. The place did not bring up fond memories.
It was a Dickensian wet dream of depressing factory building, smack dab in the middle of a lunar landscape. I wanted to go in about as much as I wanted a spare hole in the head, but needs must. I walked through the front doors to reception and saw a woman of about 18, sitting behind the desk, playing on her phone. She looked up.
"If you're here to meet the boss, go home and change. Me Too hasn't really made it to the button factory, and dad's just going to sexually harass you until I have to tell my mom on him."
"I've met your father; I know the drill. I'm actually here to speak to Ed Settle. I'm investigating the disappearance of someone he went to school with, and I just want to ask him a couple of questions."
"Are you looking into Mr. Dickerson's case?" She asked, putting her phone down.
"Yes," I said.
"Good, because ain't nobody else doing a damned thing. He's a good teacher; some of us former students have been getting together to write a petition to the Mayor to get him to do something about it."
"How's it going?" I asked.
"We have 200 signatures on it already."
"Can I sign it?" I asked.
"It's online; I'll send you the link," she said. I handed her my card, and she sent me a text. She reached over to an ancient PA system and pressed a button. "Eddie, come to reception."
A few minutes later, Ed Settle came out to reception. He eyed me and then looked at the girl behind the desk. "If she's here to meet your dad..." he said.
"I warned her already," the girl said. "She's here to talk to you about Mr. Dickerson."
"About fucking time someone came to talk to me about it."
"You could have come forward," I said. Ed Settle was tall, gangly, and though he'd gone a bit to seed, it was nothing to write home about. He had the distinct look of someone who was mostly stoned all of his life, but if I were working at the button factory, I'd probably need the odd joint just not to kill myself at the end of the day.
"I did come forward," he said. "When I found out he was missing. I called the cop in charge, and he told me that he didn't think our old school days were relevant to the circumstances, or some shit."
"Well, I think your school days are relevant. Want to tell me what you were going to tell them?"
"Yeah," he said. "Couple of years ago, I'm on my way to work, and I see Waldo Dickerson at the Tasty Pastry. I hadn't seen him in years, and he was always a cool guy, so I waved at him. He didn't see me at first, but when he did, he wigged. He sorta just threw his money at the checkout girl and made to bolt without his food. The man looked scared shitless of me, and I figured it had to do with something from back in the day. So I went up to him, and I said, 'no hard feelings about what happened in school, dude. It's ancient history.'
"I was never going to make it in baseball, and it's not exactly like my IQ tips the scales. The only reason I went along with that whole thing back then was because I wanted the dough. My mom was sick, and we needed extra cash. It's not like the school was paying us anything. I made enough money with all of the gambling and shit that I was able to pay mom's hospital bills, and that's all I cared about. So he says to me, what about attacking Abby in the dorm room? I know it was you. I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. He told me what happened, and I told him I knew who was behind it. It was Jerry Caruso and little Greg Neudendorf. They talked about how they used the muppet costumes to pull a prank on this chick in the dorms. They said they tied her up and scared her a little. Greg said that next time they should do more than just tie her up. Jerry thought that was hilarious, and I told them that I'd kick their asses from here until next March if they did. They told me to chill, they were just kidding, and besides, she'd like it. Apparently, she told Jerry she was into that sort of thing. I didn't know they were talking about Abby. If I had, I would have punched Greg's light's out and reported Jerry to the campus police. I damn near did anyway."
"What did Mr. Dickerson say after that?" A clatter and a soft curse drew our attention to reception. The girl at the desk had dropped her phone, and I knew that this entire conversation was going to end up on the internet. That probably wasn't the best idea, so I steered Ed towards the door and repeated my question more softly this time.
"We talked about a lot of stuff, and I told him I wasn't pissed about what happened. I really wasn't, and I was sure as hell sorry for my part. I was a stupid kid who went along with a lot of shit he shouldn't have. We had lunch, and I met his wife. Sweet little thing."
"Did he mention the recent harassment from the other guys?"
"No," Ed said. "But I think that started because of me."
"Why?" I asked.
"Well, I was working, and another friend from back then, John Lewis and this guy (a buddy of Jerry's back in the day, but I can't remember his name) they came up to me, and we got to talking about school. You know, shooting the shit about the glory days stuff, and Wally's name comes up. They start bitching about him, and I say, 'Guys, come on. Wally's cool. I just saw him a couple-three months ago. He just did what he thought was right, and we were cheating. That ain't his fault.' Well, John agrees with me, but Jerry's buddy, he gets all pissed and said it was easy for me to say because I was still alive. Getting kicked out of Linton killed Jer. John tells him maybe he should take a walk. The dude walks away, and John asks me where I saw Wally. Maybe he should pay him a visit, you know, apologize for involving him in all of that garbage. I tell him that it would be a good idea, and I say that he's a Middle School Science teacher, and I tell him what I know.
The next thing I know, Wally's coming to work accusing me of trying to scare his wife. I tell him I have no idea what he's talking about. He asks me all of these questions about where I've been, what I've been doing. I tell him, and he says that if he finds out I'm lying, he's going to the police. I didn't talk to him after that. The next time I heard of him was a thing in the paper about how he went missing under suspicious circumstances."
"So that's when you contacted the police, and they told you not to waste their time."
"In so many words, and then some," he replied.
"Did you go into the station and speak to the lead detective?"
"No, they put me on the horn with him. A uhh Detective Buckerson."
"Thanks," I said. "Do any of the guys drive an old Oldsmobile? Looks like Kit from Night Rider but a van?"
"Yeah," he said, "That would be John Lewis. We used to party in that thing when we were in college. Sure, you can use a sports car to pick up easy chicks, but the minivan? It attracts the women who get hard-ons for white picket fences and puppies, if you get my drift. John liked those conquests best because they were harder to nail."
Nice, I thought. This John Lewis guy sounded like the kind of guy who called Date Rape a misunderstanding.
"The weekend before Dickerson disappeared, his wife was catcalled at the pumps of a gas station. Do you know anything about that?"
"Yeah," he said. "I was there; I was in the van. Didn't do the yelling out the window, though. Johnny was getting all bent out of shape because she was taking too long, and he started the shit we used to do in school. The other guys thought it was funny and got in on it."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because I grew up," he said. "I told them that after that, they shouldn't call me again. They told me to stop being a pussy, and I asked them if they had been bothering Waldo again."
"What did they say?"
"It was ancient history. Then they kicked me out of the car."
"Who was in the car for that incident?"
"Greg, John, Gary, that guy from back in the day, and Coach Darren."
"Coach Darren? Isn't he Dickerson's friend?"
"Fuck no," Ed said, "Who told you that?"
"Everyone, including Calvin Darren."
"Nope," he said. "Calvin Darren lost the most money out of all of us. See, he was the one who came up with the whole thing to begin with. Then Wally caught us all. I guess he hadn't figured out that Calvin was part of it, and none of us squealed because we were all freaking out about the fact that someone had run Wally off of the road. We thought Coach Darren had to be behind it."
"He fought to keep Mr. Dickerson's scholarship," I said.
"Who told you that?"
"Abby, Laurel Gulahorn, Coach Darren."
"Coach Darren was the first one to suggest to the administration that it might be a good idea to take away Wally's scholarship. It was only when Wally said he had a list of names of staff who had…what was the word?" He snapped his fingers in an attempt to jog his memory, "Suborned, yeah that's what he said, suborned the cheating at the school, that Cal decided to put the thing to rest and go to Wally. He told Wally if he shut his pie hole, Cal'd write the letter and make sure that he and Abby got to stay in school."
"And Mr. Dickerson went along with that? After everything?"
"He'd lost a lot already, and he was afraid. Wouldn't you be? I think he just had enough."
"If the police come to you, will you tell them everything you've told me?"
"I'll do it right now if you want. Only that guy, he wouldn't take my call."
I looked over at the girl at the front desk. "Can I borrow Mr. Settle?"
"Yeah," she said.
I called Joe, "Meet me at Pino's. I have someone you need to talk to."
Ed got in the car with me, and I drove him to Pino's, where Joe was waiting at a table. We sat down, and I made introductions. "Tell him everything you told me," I said. "Including what Buckerson said when you spoke to him."
Ed launched into his story again, and Joe's face grew grimmer and grimmer. "And you tried to tell Detective Buckerson this, and he told you it was unimportant?"
"Well, as much as he would let me," Ed said.
"What do you mean?" Joe said.
"Well I called, I got to talk to Detective Buckerson, and I said, 'There's stuff you need to know about Wally Dickerson. They might be clues.' And I started to tell him, and he said not to waste his time with juvenile drama from a million years ago."
"Did you mention the muppets?" Joe asked.
"I didn't get that far," Ed said.
Joe blew out a sigh. "Okay, here's what's going to happen. You're going to take some time off from the Button Factory; I'll square it with your boss. Stephanie is going to take you into protective custody. I hear her apartments are nicer than our cells. You cool with that?"
"Yeah, if it means we find Wally. He's a good egg, and I like him."
I called Ranger and told him to come pick up Ed Settle. I didn't think it would be a good idea to put him in the same building with Waldo Dickerson, just in case we couldn't trust Ed's word. I wanted to speak to Dickerson before I let that cat out of the bag. When Ranger arrived, I said, "Atlantic City?"
He nodded.
"Tell him everything you told us," I said.
"Again?" Ed said, "It would have been a helluva a lot easier if you had all just come to see me together."
"Yeah, well," I said. "I didn't want to waste their time if you were a dead end."
He rolled his eyes and left with Ranger.
"Have you started looking into Bucky yet?" I asked.
"It took me an hour of fancy talking to get the Captain to give me the case. What with Molly and everything." Molly's stalker had tried to blow her up. They were trying to catch the guy so he couldn't do it again. It was taking time.
"Right," I said. "But he gave it to you."
"Yeah," he said. "And he's going to look into Bucky for us."
"Well, I started looking last night. He had a light caseload in Boston, and apparently, he transferred there from New York."
"And the other numbskulls who got expelled?"
"Jerry Caruso died of a drug overdose. Everyone else has apparently been leading lives as upstanding citizens. I haven't done a deep dive into them yet. I'm sure I'll find more."
"Well, keep me in the loop, and I mean it. The Mayor has started receiving petitions to get us to put our backs into the investigation."
"How did Bucky take to losing the investigation?"
"Like any of us would, he was displeased. Which doesn't jive with what Molly heard from Shirley. Maybe because he wasn't in control of his incompetence in this instance. I dunno."
My phone rang, and I looked down at it and caught the time. "Fuck! Lula's baby shower, and I don't even know where I'm going!"
I picked up the phone, "Connie, I'm on my way. Where am I going?"
"You're mother's house. Do you have a present?"
"No! Dammit! I have a plan; I just haven't had time to execute it."
"You owe me. I knew you'd forget, so I forged your signature on the card for my gift."
"Yes, I do," I said. "I'm a terrible friend, and I owe you big time. I'll be there in five. I'm at Pino's."