Angry Jonny

  A small ticket; paid parking stub.

  Jessica recognized the location. Pantheon’s central campus; parking deck around the corner from the Timber Bowl and the Center for Human Genetics.

  Dating back just a few days, July Fourth.

  Time stamped at three-fifteen pm.

  Jessica threw the magazine aside and sat on edge of the toilet. If the bail hearing was any indication, Donahue was looking to pin all three of Angry Jonny’s attacks on Dinah. And if Eli had been there as early as three-fifteen, maybe he had seen something.

  Anything, that was the watchword.

  Anything that might derail the prosecution of her aunt.

  Jessica stopped right there, ticket stub folding over in her fist.

  For all she knew, Eli was still duking it out with her ex-boyfriend in the parking lot. Even if they had managed to settle their differences like men, their actions that evening had been anything but. A pair of burned bridges Jessica had no interest in rebuilding.

  She rubbed her eyes, leaned back.

  Her elbow inadvertently pressed down on the handle, giving the toilet a good flush.

  “Happy birthday to me,” she mumbled.

  Jessica stumbled to her bedroom, doubting she would be putting her lids to any use in the hours to come.

  Chapter 35: Meet the New Boss.

  The loud whine of machinery lifted Jessica’s head from the desk. Drenched with sweat from the morning glare. She rubbed her eyes, peeling away a piece of scrap paper stuck to her face. From outside, the incessant wail was joined by the sound of percussive hammering.

  Jessica rolled her chair back and looked through the window. Down on the front lawn, a bucket truck ambled past, growling under the weight of a folded hydra ladder. Further along the complex, another basket crane was parked at building M. Its long neck stretched up to third-story windows, where a pair of hardhats bashed away at metal casements.

  Camelot apartments had become a nature reserve for industrial wildlife.

  Jessica dressed herself and made for the front office.

  The door was open. Jessica knocked on the threshold and leaned in.

  She was greeted by a pair of rosy cheeks, connected end to end by a friendly smile.

  The new manager stood from her seat and rounded the desk. She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, wore a business-casual jacket over a light-blue shirt. Jeans and open toe sandals. Her long, perfectly conditioned hair was dyed a soothing amber. She could have easily passed for a graduate student.

  Then again, maybe that was the idea.

  “Hi, I’m Katherine Trace,” she beamed, holding out her hand. “You can call me Kate.”

  “Jessica Kincaid. Apartment K3A.”

  “Oh, building K,” Kate replied knowingly. “We won’t be getting around to renovating your unit for a while. Come in, please. Glad you stopped by.”

  “Thanks.” Jessica took a few cautious steps as Kate rounded the desk and began stacking envelopes into a wire basket. “I was under the impression you would be here a week ago.”

  “Yeah, I was. In and out, sorry about that. There was a delay with the construction, as you can see. I hope there weren’t any problems that –”

  “I was just hoping to ask you a few questions.”

  “That’s a happy coincidence. I was just about to distribute our letters of introduction.” Kate’s nimble fingers flipped through a few envelopes. She unsheathed one and handed it to Jessica. “Here you are. K3A. If you’d like, you can join me while I distribute these. Have a look at the notice, let me know if you have any concerns.”

  Jessica was relatively sure that had originally been her own idea. A few quick turns of the phrase, and Kate had made herself the accommodating one.

  They set out across the grounds, as Jessica read through the letter.

  Along the way, Kate pulled a worker aside, pointing to several spots where she wanted construction tape put up. Once they were back on course, Jessica pointed to the pricing chart for the new apartments.

  “Says here you’re bumping up our unit from six hundred and thirty to an even thousand.”

  “For the two bedroom, yes. But that won’t happen until your lease is up. When is your lease up?”

  “We just renewed last month.”

  “Oh, good for you, then. You’ve got a whole year to get to know us. In fact, there’s a decent chance you’ll be spending half that time benefiting from the renovations to your unit. Washer/dryer, central air; this is going to work out better than I thought.”

  There was a messy, back-door logic to Kate’s arguments. “But what we’re worried about is –”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Jessica. You keep saying we, and here I forgot to ask who your roomie is.”

  “My aunt, Dinah – ” Jessica’s steps slowed, stopped. Out of fuel. She padded herself down, realizing she’d left her phone back in the apartment. “What time is it?”

  “Almost ten…” Kate put on a concerned look. “Uh-oh. You late for work?”

  “Something like that,” Jessica said. “I’ll see you later.”

  “OK, Jessica!” Kate called out after her. “Stop by anytime, all right?”

  Jessica waited until she was safely in her building, then vaulted up the steps.

  ***

  From across the apartment, Jessica could hear the phone ringing.

  She sprinted down the hallway, leaped onto her futon and scooped up her cell.

  Practically yanking the charger from the wall, Jessica answered with a breathless cry.

  “Jess?” Dinah sounded close enough to touch. “You OK?”

  “Yeah…” Jessica laughed, relieved. Caught her breath, looking to lighten the mood. “Better n’ you.”

  “You sound weird.”

  “Thought I was going to miss your call.”

  “No big deal…” Dinah’s voice told a different story. The jail’s landline gave away every tremor, every frightened note in her breath. “Got my first appearance this afternoon. You can catch me then.”

  “What’s the word?”

  “Took a culture for DNA testing this morning.” Dinah hesitated, sniffed. “I got a feeling, though, there’s something else you want to ask?”

  “Dinah, why the hell did you lie about when you left the bar?”

  “Because I don’t remember anything about that evening.”

  “You could’ve told the detectives, right from the go.”

  “Look, I honestly thought that’s how it went down. I knew I had a tab going. I knew I still had my card on me the next day. It’s not like I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking, so I just figured I closed the place down. My statement backed me up.”

  Jessica shook her head. “That’s going to be a problem.”

  “No shit.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean… How’s a solid drinker like you going to get the entire evening wiped from their memory?”

  “I think I might have been drugged.”

  “Drugged?”

  “Roofied, something slipped into my drink. This was not like any blackout I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Jesus, Dinah… Do you think… You don’t think it was Eli, do you?”

  “God, no. Eli’s got the talk, he don’t need date-rape pills. Besides, same thing happened to him. Memory one large blank. Someone got both of us.”

  Jessica wasn’t sure whether or not their conversation was being taped: “You mean him?”

  “If he ain’t in here, then he’s still out there.”

  “And has been the whole time.” Jessica stood up, nervous energy taking her for a walk around the apartment. “What have they got on you?”

  “Don’t know. I can request a public defender this afternoon. Once I meet with him, I should get the bigger picture.”

  “Anything I can do for you?”

  “You got a shift at the Prescott tonight. Don’t miss it. Even if I get bailed out, I’m going to be lucky to still have that job
.”

  “Bullshit. You haven’t been found guilty of anything, and besides -”

  “All the more reason to get your ass over there. Smooth this over however you can. Now, look… I’ve got to wrap this up, so just promise me you’ll take care of this one thing?”

  Jessica wrinkled her nose. “Fine. Don’t matter anyway. I got your bail money coming.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Jessica thought she heard Dinah choke back a sob. She clenched her teeth, tried to keep it together. “And you don’t do anything else stupid.”

  “Love you, Jess.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Dinah hung up.

  Jessica wiped her face with her shirt.

  She shuffled over to the living room window. Caught sight of Katherine, making her way to another building. Crate full of pleasantly worded rent hikes. Her hair burned brightly in the sun, satisfied smile shining on.

  Jessica took a seat on the windowsill. Drew her legs up to her chest and watched as the construction crew dug in with their tools and hungry machines, slowly remaking the entire landscape.

  Chapter 36: The Cult of Angry Jonny.

  The call came at one-thirty that afternoon.

  Chaucer was back in town, with a suitcase full of cash.

  Jessica was still sweating it out on the windowsill. She cradled the phone against her shoulder and brought Chaucer up to speed. He offered to pick her up at two-thirty. After the first appearance, they would post Dinah’s bail together.

  We’re bringing her home, Chaucer said.

  Jessica sat at the window for a while longer. Even with Chaucer back in town, even with her aunt’s impending release, she hadn’t felt this alone since her mother had vanished from the face of the earth. Eighteen going on fifteen, flashbacks of a world turned upside down.

  She showered, prepped the coffee. The radio in her room was tuned to NPR, national headlines reminding her of the thousands turning out for Michael Jackson’s funeral. As the local coverage turned to news of Dinah’s arrest, Jessica dressed herself in the suit her aunt had bought for her one month ago to the day.

  Jessica was already out on the corner when the blue, 1976 Eldorado pulled up. She hopped in, took a quick gander at Chaucer’s threads; a solid black-tie affair.

  “You got the money?” Jessica asked.

  Chaucer reached into his jacket and pulled out a stack of bound hundred-dollar bills no thicker than one-fifth of a paper ream. He handed it over without a word.

  “What happened to a suitcase full of cash?” Jessica asked.

  “I wanted to sound cool,” Chaucer admitted, unable to summon his usual playfulness.

  “Oh, you’re cool, Mr. Braswell. Cooler than a polar bear’s toenails…” Jessica returned the money, uncomfortable with all that green. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  It was a five-minute drive to the courthouse. Not a word spoken, pulling into the parking garage with the resigned silence of an office carpool.

  Jessica had expected to find local crews and cable affiliates parked out front. Wasn’t prepared for what appeared to be, at first glance, a small gathering of protesters. As she and Chaucer neared the courthouse steps, their makeshift signs came into focus.

  JONNY = JUSTICE

  ANGRY AT THE GOVERNMENT

  FREE ANGRY JONNY!!

  WE ARE ALL ANGRY!

  GOUGE THE INSURANCE COMPANIES!

  ANGRY JONNY IS GOD

  Jessica felt herself becoming sick. It wasn’t just the banners and placards, the mad worship of a dangerous, anonymous individual. It was the variety. All colors, genders, walks of life, all united. Parading their innermost revulsions with no apparent ringleader or manifesto. Their individual grievances were incidental. Whether the accused was innocent or guilty didn’t matter.

  Angry Jonny was on their side.

  With each camera crew they passed, interviews faded in and out.

  “…of course I ain’t in favor of what he’s done. But he is representing us. Angry Jonny is representing us when no one else up in that courthouse, or out in Washington will…”

  “… Jason Castle was using our money, tax payer dollars, to buy whatever he wanted. And if you think he’s the only one, he’s not. You think Angry Jonny doesn’t know that? You think we’re not wise to what’s going on…?”

  “…Criminal? What’s criminal? Leaving us without jobs, while those Wall Street pigs treat us like their slaves, taking our money and giving us nothing…”

  “Angry Jonny is stopping the criminals. You think any of these sick, greedy, perverted animals would have ever found their way to this building behind us…?”

  Jessica glanced up at Chaucer. His lips pursed so tight they had turned to thin, milky scars.

  They made their way up the steps, sunlight glaring off monolithic windows. A lengthy walkway stretched across the front of the building, cool in the shadow of the building’s overhang.

  Jessica’s phone began to ring; Al Holder, calling from his cell.

  She answered her phone, pausing by one of the concrete pier columns. “Afternoon, sir.”

  “Afternoon to you, too.”

  “Where are you calling me from?”

  “Other side of the steps…”

  Jessica threw a measured glance to her left.

  Al was standing several feet away. One thick arm resting against a pillar, pillowing his head as he leaned against it, staring at the floor.

  “Don’t start,” he said, still talking into the phone. “I know what I must look like. It’s boiling out here.”

  Jessica motioned for Chaucer to hang back. “Any reason we’re doing this with tin cans and a thread?”

  “You’re a person of interest, Jessica. Didn’t want the press seeing us together.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry how things ended up.”

  “Sounds like that’s not all you want to say.”

  “We can talk later.”

  “Might be easier like this.”

  Al leaned back against the column, hung his head.

  “Thanks for the tip on the weapon,” he said.

  “But…”

  “But, yeah… I’m going to have to ask you to stop bringing any more information to us.”

  Jessica closed her eyes, did a little leaning of her own. Smooth, concrete cold to the touch. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t care that you didn’t tell us about Dinah. I get it. Don’t think this is the first time something like this has happened around the Observer. But it proves the bigger picture. I want to protect you, and I can’t do that when you’re working Angry Jonny with us…”

  “I understand.”

  “In the interest of full disclosure, we would have to mention you practically every article. It’s just the way things work. Eventually the media would make you the story. Never mind that Angry Jonny’s got a thing for you, if anyone found out about that first letter, anyone –”

  “I said I understand, sir.”

  “Stop by my office tomorrow…” Al said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “We can figure out how this is going to work… Oh, and I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but Malik came to me today and said that he only wants to work on days when you aren’t. It’s his problem, so I won’t let it affect your schedule –”

  “Sir?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I honestly have bigger problems right now.” Jessica tried to signal a hearty, insincere thumbs up. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “Good luck.”

  “See you at the office.”

  She hung up.

  Chaucer approached her with a sympathetic smile. As usual, there was no need to explain what was staring him right in the face. “We’d better get moving.”

  “Yeah…” She kept her phone out, ready to send it through security. “Let’s go.”

  And just like that, Jessica was off the b
eat.

  ***

  They were detained outside the courtroom by an elderly guard with a snowy cap of hair receding from his brown, jowly face. Maximum occupancy had already been reached. As if to prove his point, he motioned to the dozens of people gathered outside, awaiting their own, unglamorous day in court.

  “I’m the defendant’s niece,” Jessica said. “There’s got to be a place saved for family –”

  “You’re her niece?” His thick eyebrows doing an amused dance. “I’d believe I’m your niece before I believe that.”

  “Could you just step into the courtroom right quick?” Chaucer requested. “Get the arresting officer, Detective Donahue. He’ll clear us.”

  “I suppose you’re her niece, too.” The guard shook his head as he disappeared through the doors.

  A minute later, he was back with Donahue.

  The detective motioned them inside.

  Jessica didn’t need a headcount to see the court was bulging at the seams. A cross-section of Verona’s citizens were crammed on either side of the aisle, conversations set on low, respectful murmurs. Members of the press were lined against the back. Farther down, along the left and right wall, opposing cameras were set up. Ready to catch every angle of a proceeding that promised to take less than two minutes.

  Donahue motioned towards an empty row at the front.

  Dinah was seated by herself at a large table. A hunched, lonely flower dressed in an orange jumpsuit. Restaurant digs filed along with her belongings in a box in some quiet room downtown.

  Donahue leaned in close. “She doesn’t want the press to know who you are. They find out, and you’re going to need an armed guard to get you out of here in one piece. Come sit with Randal and me.”

  She and Chaucer slid in to the front row, right. Seated before them was the assistant DA; a mere child who had somehow managed to grow a trim, dandelion-yellow beard.

  From that angle, Jessica could just catch her aunt’s profile. She stared, furiously willing Dinah to look her way, even for a moment. Dinah glanced over her shoulder. Without the slightest hint of recognition, she turned away, surreptitiously scratching her ear with an extended middle finger.

  Jessica smiled weakly. Love you too, Blondie...

  “All rise!” The bailiff’s booming voice sent Jessica leaping to her feet along with the rest of the spectators. “The honorable Judge Mitchell returning to the bench!”

  The honorable Judge Mitchell ascended to his perch, a diminutive five-foot-three that grew with every step. He took his seat, allowed for the rest to follow his example. Called the court to order, and donned a pair of spectacles. Took a moment to leaf through a file before motioning for Dinah to rise.