Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Fifty-Five

As much as Josie wanted to arrest Zeke herself, if she intended to press charges against him for the robbery of her house, she knew it would make things much easier on the district attorney if she had one of her patrol officers pick him up. Just as Lloyd Todd had promised, they found Zeke sleeping across two plastic chairs in the back corner of the laundromat.

Once he was brought in, Noah had him put into the interrogation room. He didn’t ask for an attorney. As his teenage accomplice had told them, he wore a drab green jacket, frayed at the edges and missing all of its buttons. His face was creased with lines from age and hard living, and his long gray beard was yellow at the end. Across his forehead he wore a bandana that had lost all of its color and was now a dingy gray with a faded pattern on it, scraggly white hair snaking out from beneath it. Josie watched him on the closed-circuit television as he chain-smoked the cigarettes Noah had left with him, lighting one from the end of the last.

“A thousand cigarettes will not cover up his stink,” Noah remarked as he walked in, handing her a file. “This guy needed a bath ten years ago. Homeless most of the last decade. Did a handful of stints for drug possession, manufacture, intent to sell—that sort of thing. No known associations with Lloyd Todd, just like Todd said.”

Josie flipped through the pages of the file, which contained arrest reports, docket entries from his various convictions, and a few old mugshots. There was one photo from seven years earlier that caught Josie’s eye, and something niggled at the back of her mind. She riffled through more pages until she found another one from thirteen years ago. With fewer lines on his face, his features were a little clearer. They were familiar, she realized. But why?

“Do you think Todd was telling the truth about the robbery and the ads?” Noah asked.

Josie didn’t take her eyes off the file in her hands as she looked for more photos. “You know I don’t make a habit of trusting lowlifes like Todd, but I don’t see why he would give me so much information but lie about something like that. He hypothetically admitted to the most costly of the incidents. Why hold out on the other stuff? There’s no benefit.”

“I guess. But that begs the question: Who is behind the robbery and the craigslist ads?”

Josie motioned to the television. “Maybe Zeke can tell us.”

She suddenly found what she was looking for: a third mug shot, this one taken twenty years earlier when Josie was ten. A gasp escaped her throat as the rest of the contents of the file fluttered to the floor.

“Boss?” Noah said. “What is it?”

Josie could hardly get the word out: “Needle.”

“What’s that?”

She looked up at the television screen. “I have to talk to him.”

Noah was hot on her heels as she dashed out of the viewing room and down the hall to the interrogation room. “Boss,” he called out, but he wasn’t fast enough.

The door banged open and Needle stared up at her. She walked slowly to the table as Noah slipped in behind her and closed the door. She could sense that he wanted to say something, to stop her, but he kept silent. Josie placed a palm flat on the table and leaned toward him, the smell of smoke and stale body odor nearly overpowering her. “Do you remember me?”

He stared at her, a toothless smile splitting his face.

“Do you?” Josie demanded.

“Little JoJo.”

Behind her, Josie sensed Noah startle. No one ever called her anything but Josie or Boss. Only Ray had had the privilege of shortening her name to Jo. Hearing her childhood nickname after so many years gave her a jolt as well, but she did her best to hide it.

“You knew my mother,” Josie said. “What was her name?”

Needle laughed. “You know your mother’s name.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Belinda,” he said easily. “Belinda Rose.”

“Her real name,” Josie demanded.

A look of genuine confusion crossed his face. “Be-linda Rose,” he repeated.

So her mother hadn’t confided in this man. Josie changed tactics. “Why did you rob my house?”

“I didn’t rob no one’s house.”

Josie rolled her eyes. She slapped her palm against the surface of the table to keep his attention focused on her. “Cut the shit, Zeke,” she said. “I have two witnesses who not only put you there, but will testify that you put them up to it. Why? Why me? Why now?”

His fingers fumbled to get a cigarette out of the crushed pack in front of him and light it off his last. “You were a cute kid, you know that, JoJo?”

Josie said nothing.

“Made your mom a little crazy, I think. Having such a pretty thing around. Everyone always paying so much attention to you. Your dad—he didn’t care a lick for your mom once you came along. That never sat well with her, you know.”

Without conscious thought, Josie’s hand reached up and traced the scar that went down her jawline. Needle motioned to her face. “That was the worst I ever seen her,” he said. “Well, up until that night.”

“You stopped her,” Josie said.

He nodded. “She scared me that night. I seen her do a lot of things, but that was something different.”

“Did you take me to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

Josie’s throat felt like it was in danger of closing up altogether. When she asked her next question, it came out nearly a whisper. “Why didn’t you go inside and tell them what she did?”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t my place. Besides, you don’t cross a woman like that.” He took a long drag from his cigarette, the ash glowing bright orange. “You oughta know that better than most.”

She said nothing. Smoke hung in the air, unmoving. Quietly, Noah took a step closer to the table, watching the two of them. Finally, he shifted his gaze to Needle and said, “Zeke, we’ve got you on the robbery. Just tell us what you did with the jewelry. Did you sell it?”

Needle shook his head.

Noah said, “You didn’t sell it?”

“I don’t know what happened to it.”

“It just disappeared from your hands, did it?” Noah asked.

“Did you know it was my house?” Josie interjected.

Needle met her eyes, and she was taken back to her childhood, hiding behind the couch or under the kitchen table, Needle catching her eyes, smiling at her, offering her a piece of his sandwich or a sip of his soda. She was always hungry. Then there was the day he had walked in on her mother trying to sell her for a paint job and told her to go outside and play. Josie never knew what had transpired after she ran off, but when she’d returned home, the man was gone. The paint job was never spoken of again. Needle had been in the right place at the right time. He had been kind to her. As kind as someone like him could be.

He smiled a sad smile. “I’m sorry, little JoJo.”

“Why were you nice to me when I was a kid?” she asked.

He shrugged. “No reason not to be. Seemed like you were in a pretty bad situation there, especially after your dad passed.”

Again, she was struck by the fact that his kindness and sympathy had only gone so far. Yes, he had been nice to her, had recognized what could only be called abuse, but he hadn’t gone so far as to help her out of the situation. The world was full of people like Needle. People who noticed when others were in trouble, but whose sense of self-preservation ultimately outweighed their sense of justice.

“Why?” Josie tried again. “Why did you rob my house?”

Needle shook the pack of cigarettes, but there were no more left. He stubbed out the last butt in the ashtray Noah had provided and let out a lengthy sigh. “You’re smart, JoJo. You can’t figure it out? You haven’t figured it out yet?”

Josie felt the cold fingers of fear scuttle up her spine. “Figured what out?”

Needle leaned back in his chair and folded his nicotine-stained hands over his stomach. “I’m about done here. If you’re gonna charge me, charge me, and I’ll take that lawyer you said would be appointed for me if I can’t afford one. I got nothing else to say.”

Noah and Josie stared at him for a long moment, waiting to see if he would change his mind or ask for something, but he was relaxed in his seat, whistling an unrecognizable tune to himself. Finally, Noah walked to the door and Josie followed. He held the door open for her, and she was about to step through it when Needle spoke again.

“Don’t know what you ever did to her, little JoJo.”

Her heart seized in her chest. She turned back to him. “What did you say?”

“She said you’d find me. I said no you wouldn’t, you’d never know I was involved. But she was right. You got me. You even recognized me.”

“Who said I’d find you?” Josie asked, frozen in the doorway. “What are you talking about?”

He met her eyes. “She wanted me to give you a message. She said she’ll destroy everything you love.”