her kid were from Mississippi but Liza had her doubts. The apartment complex’s residents weren’t exactly members of mainstream society. At least once a week Liza heard a shot fired nearby, or watched the police drag away an abusive husband or boyfriend. But the rent was cheap and since she had to fork out money for both her place and Rick’s, this was the best she could afford.
Rick thought it was stupid to have separate apartments, mostly because he wanted complete control over her. But that was the one thing she wouldn’t negotiate with him. She didn’t care that she’d end up broke, but as threadbare as it was, her sanity wasn’t something she was ready to give up. Bad enough that he tried to keep track of her every move, she sure didn’t need him in her face.
She reached the third-floor landing and furtively peeked into Rick’s open window. Sure enough, he lay flat on his back on the tattered brown corduroy couch that they’d picked up at a thrift store. An empty bottle of vodka sat on the end table, but she knew he’d consumed more than booze. Good. Maybe she could have a quiet meal with Mary Ellen and her daughter.
“Told ya.” Mary Ellen inclined her dirty-blond head toward Rick’s apartment, but her gaze stayed on the fast-food bag.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“I bought extra burgers for you and Freedom.”
Mary Ellen broke into a wide grin that displayed a missing back tooth, which wasn’t usually noticeable since she didn’t smile much. “Oh, goody. I thought we were gonna have to eat macaroni and cheese again.” She turned around, put two fingers into her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle.
Liza cringed. With dread, she took a step back and squinted into Rick’s apartment. He was still out cold. However, Freedom heard her mom’s whistle and came bounding up the stairs.
“Hi, Liza.” The eight-year-old tomboy was covered with dirt. She pulled off her red ball cap and dust flew everywhere.
“Time for dinner?” she asked her mom, her hopeful blue eyes going to the bag.
“Liza bought us burgers.”
“Yahoo. Fries, too?”
Liza unlocked her apartment door. “They would’ve gotten cold.”
“The hamburgers are cold, too,” Freedom said, with perfect logic.
“That’s true,” Mary Ellen said, her slight frown accentuating the scar paralleling her lower lip.
Sighing, Liza led them inside and went straight to the microwave. Eating cold French fries wasn’t the same thing, but Liza didn’t want to get into it with them. She wanted them to eat and leave. In fact, she should’ve given them the food to take back to their own apartment, but she had a soft spot for Mary Ellen and her daughter.
As pitiful as Liza’s place was with its chipped paint and stained, olive-green carpet, the other two managed to live in a cheaper, cramped studio apartment. Mary Ellen still ended up two months behind on the rent since her welfare checks didn’t quite cover all their expenses. With her pronounced limp, she’d had trouble finding a job that would support the two of them. Liza had never asked her about the bum leg, but she had a bad feeling about it.
She finished nuking the burgers and Mary Ellen had already put napkins on the small table. It was only big enough for two, so Freedom sat on her mother’s good knee. She quickly wolfed down her burger, and eyed a second one. Liza pushed it across to her, wishing she’d bought more than five sandwiches. When Mary Ellen finished hers, Liza offered her the last one.
“What about Rick?”
Amazing how just the mention of him could knot her stomach and send the hair straight up off the back of her neck. “What about him?”
“Isn’t he eating?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
Mary Ellen regarded her quizzically. “Why do you stay with him?”
“I’m not with him.” Liza grabbed the used wrappers and crumpled them as she got to her feet. She’d seen the curious looks Mary Ellen had given her on the unfortunate occasions when Rick was drunk and he’d yelled from the door of his apartment as Liza was trying to slip quietly down the stairs. But she didn’t intend to discuss her problems with Mary Ellen. Or anyone else.
“Why do you live next door to him, then?” the other woman asked.
Liza disposed of the wrappers, using the time to compose herself. Anyone else and she would have told them it was none of their damn business, but having to look into Mary Ellen’s perpetually sad eyes, Liza just couldn’t do it.
“It’s complicated,” she said finally.
“That means you don’t want to talk about it, huh?” the little girl mumbled, her mouth full.
“Freedom,” Mary Ellen admonished her. “This is grown-up talk. You be quiet.”
Liza hid a smile. Poor kid was going to grow up to be like her. Smart-mouthed and always in trouble.
“You went to college, didn’t you?” Mary Ellen asked.
Liza slowly nodded, not liking the conversation.
“You’re so pretty and smart and I don’t understand why you’d be living in a dump like this.”
Right. Real smart. So smart that she’d put herself in a position to be blackmailed. “Look,” Liza said in a tight voice, casting a brief glance at Freedom, who’d turned to licking her fingers instead of listening to the conversation. “I don’t think you want to start a question-and-answer session.”
Mary Ellen looked grimly down at her weather-roughened hands. “No,” she said quietly, and then cleared her throat and rose from the table. “Freedom, come on. We need to be going. Thanks for dinner, Liza.” She pulled her daughter along with her, keeping her face toward the door.
“See you later.” Liza stayed in the small open kitchen and watched them go. She probably should’ve made nice. Mary Ellen hadn’t meant anything bad by what she’d said. The woman seemed to have such a lonely life, likely she only wanted to talk.
But Liza didn’t have it in her. Not today. Everything had gone wrong. After being decisive all of her life, she’d become as stable as a palm tree in a hurricane. She should never have allowed the blackmail to get this far, but she’d panicked and everything had spiraled out of control before she knew what had happened. Winning the lawsuit would save her ass, if she could only keep her act together.
She walked to the love seat and sank down, careful to avoid the bad spring in the center. God, was this headache ever going away? She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and cradled her head in her hands. She needed a couple of aspirin. But that meant leaving to get them. No way. She was staying right where she was to enjoy the peace and quiet while Rick was passed out.
Going to the station had been a bad idea. She’d known it before she’d gotten in the car. But that was the sort of stupid irrational behavior she couldn’t seem to control anymore. Even though she’d never made it out of her car. Thanks to Evan Gann. People didn’t know how to mind their own damn business.
