Chapter Five
"Honey, I'm worried," said Belinda. She and Tom were sitting on the sofa in Tom's beachfront house.
"About what?" Tom asked. He and Belinda were sipping glasses of chardonnay.
"About being found out," said Belinda.
Tom set his glass down on the coffee table that lay in front of them. "Now, don't you worry about a thing," he said as he cradled Belinda's chin. "I've got the Metrocops eating out of my hand. As far as they're concerned, Ian did it.
"They don't want to work. Feed them a convincing story and they'll fall for it hook, line, and sinker. After all, it's one more Blank off the street, right?"
"What about Edison Carter?"
"Pfft … forget Edison Carter," said Tom, waving his hand dismissively. "I have friends in high places at Network 23. One phone call from me and they'll make Edison go bye-bye."
"I can't help, but ..."
"But, WHAT?"
"But think about … what we're putting the kid through."
"Now, don't you start getting soft on me!" Tom growled. "You want to play with me, you have to be willing to do what's necessary.
Tom then softened. "Just a few more days, we'll have our insurance money … and then we'll be on our way to Jamaica."
Belinda set her glass down on the coffee table, embraced Tom, and kissed hm on the nose. "Mmmm … I like the sound of that," she said with a giggle.
"I know this is difficult to accept, Mrs. Morgan," said the Metrocop sergeant to Agnes Morgan at police headquarters. "But he IS a Blank ..."
"So?" Agnes interjected. She sat in front of the sergeant's desk wearing a gray tweed business suit with a navy blue silk blouse and beige heels. She carried a black alligator leather clutch purse.
"They'll do anything to save their own skin. Lie, cheat, steal … even kill."
"You don't know Ian," Agnes shot back. "At least, you don't know MY Ian."
"We see people like Ian every day here, Mrs. Morgan," said the sergeant. "He's no different than the rest of `em."
"I refuse to stand idly by and watch an innocent seventeen-year-old boy being ground to a pulp!" Agnes protested
"What makes you so sure he's innocent?" the sergeant asked.
"He's mowed my lawn for two years," Agnes replied. "I've never known him to be anything other than an upstanding young man."
"How well do you really know him?" the sergeant asked.
"He doesn't know the combination!" Agnes exclaimed. "How could he have gotten into the safe? You yourself said there was no sign of forced entry."
"Are you SURE of that?" asked the sergeant. "How well do you know him?"
"When I was a girl, we had a saying … 'You do not foul your own nest'."
"Which means … ?"
"You don't harm your own," said Agnes. "You don't bite the hand that feeds you."
"As much as I've enjoyed talking to you, I really DO have work to do," said the sergeant.
Agnes stood up and turned to leave, her jaw set. "This is NOT over," she said defiantly.
The sergeant shook his head as Agnes left. Crazy broad, he thought. All this over a damn Blank.
You'd have thought she was his mother.