WildCard

by Jodi MacArthur

Margo awoke. The grandfather clock clanged in the hallway. She swept aside the sheets and sat up. A dull ache pulsed between her temples. She pressed her hands to either side her head and sighed. Ambien jet lag. It seemed, with the medication, she awoke feeling worse than when she didn’t sleep at all.

She dropped her toes to the hardwood floor. “Ouch!” Searing pain shot up from her soles. Drawing one foot up, she touched the padding on the bottom and felt slight protrusions like bubble wrap. Blisters. Burns. “What the-”

Meow. Nelly jumped on the sheets, and purred against Margo’s arm.

“Not now, Nelly.”

The cat rubbed against Margo’s injured foot. “No, no, no…kitty.” She swept at Nelly and drew her foot in all at once, resulting in a nice slip down the satin sheets to the hardwood floor. Thump!

Nelly leapt to the floor and licked at her paw.

Margo groaned. “Bad kitty.”

The cat ignored her and kept at its grooming.

Struggling to her hands and knees, Margo crawled across the floor towards the bathroom. Her head pounded, her tailbone throbbed, her feet were on fire, and suddenly she realized how sore her shoulders were. What was all this?

In the bathroom, she flipped the light on and inspected her feet. Little red blisters. Some of them had popped open and oozed. Second degree burns. She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and withdrew Neosporin, gauze, and wraps. Her head swam with questions as she applied. How? Why?

From the living room, her cell buzzed Superman theme music. Cricket. For him to call in the wee hours meant only one thing. She sucked in her breath, rose to her feet, swore at the pain, and tiptoed to the Living Room. She ripped her phone off the charger. “Crick?”

“Houston, we have a problem.” He paused. “Hey, why you breathing like that? You been jogging? It’s three AM.”

Margo gritted her teeth. “No. I mean, I know. I just…I don’t know. I woke up with these blisters on my feet, my head hurts, and then I fell off the bed—“

“I’d say you fell off the wrong side of the bed.”

“What do you want, Cricket?”

“Oh, like I was sayin’ we’ve got an…issue.”

“Do you have the client number?” Margo reached for the small notepad on the stand beside the couch.

“Yeah.”

Margo rolled her eyes. “You want to give it to me?”

“Oh, oh yeah, it’s ummmm…”

“Make it spiffy, Crick. I just wanna crawl back in bed.”

“It’s five, thirty, six, oh, oh. And he ain’t happy.”

“Hold on a minute.” Margo ran her finger down the long line in her notepad, flipped ahead a couple pages. “Craig ...” She stopped. Looked at the last name again. Decided to spell it. “K-n-i-p-p”

“Nipple.”

“I don’t think it’s pronounced that way.”

“How else you gonna pronounce it?”

“Because of the K,” Margo said.

“K don’t make no difference. It’s nipple. I asked him.”

“Which is probably why he’s ticked?”

“Doesn’t help.”

“Cricket.”

“He’s in the slammer.”

Margo sat up and leaned forward. Headache and foot throb forgotten. “What? Why did he call you? Everyone knows the rules.”

“Yeah, but they don’t follow them. We excel at being unlawful citizens.” Cricket unleashed a laugh that would wake the devil.

Margo cringed. She didn’t like breaking the law. It ate at her conscience like a worm, yet there were bills to pay, her aunt to support, her mother to run from... Margo frowned at the last thought. Where had that come from?

“You still there?”

Nelly leaped on her lap. Margo placed her hand on the cat’s head and scratched behind her ears. “Yeah.” She got back to business. “Even still. If they want their fix, they can’t be snitchin’. “

“Knipple didn’t snitch, he wants someone bail him out.”

“Blackmail?”

“Uh huh. Nipple blackmail.”

“Enough with that word.”

“Blackmail?”

“Nipple!”

Nelly looked up at her and mewed.

Cricket cracked up on the other side. Margo could’ve killed him.

“So what do we do boss?”

“Let it go. We aren’t paying. This isn’t get out of jail free day.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’ll snitch—“

“Yeah, and if he does, what will Bones do to him when he gets out?”

Cricket’s laughter answered her.

“Listen,” Margo said, “the day we go soft is the day we start running in the red. Besides, word will spread, and we’ll loose the respect we’ve spent the last couple of years building.”

“If you call respect beating the crap out of people.”

The tiny worm of guilt gnawed at her conscience, Margo suddenly felt tired. She needed to lie down. “Our customers know the consequences. He won’t snitch.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, boss.”

Margo stroked Nelly’s head. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“You sound like hell. Get some sleep, girl. Busy day.” Cricket hung up.

Margo flicked the end call button, then flung the notepad across the living room. It hit the wall and flapped to the floor. She put her feet on the couch and leaned back. Closed her eyes.

###

She awoke to a knock on her door. “Miss Gremmler? Miss Gremmler? You awake yet?”

Margo stood, yelped at the pain in her feet and fell back on the couch.

“Miss Gremmler, are you okay? That didn’t sound good.”

Margo groaned. “Everything’s dandy, Stew. Just a minute.” She rose to her tiptoes and swore as she pussyfooted across the living room.

She opened the door to a large smile planted on an elderly face. Stew’s jowls shook as spoke, “Miss Gremmler, I brought you the paper and some coffee.” He nodded at the paper tucked under his arm. He held a steaming mug in each hand. His hands shook from the weight.

She smiled. “Oh, Stew, how thoughtful, but you see I wasn’t expecting you this morning and I’m still in my PJs and...”

“Oh don’t mind me, Miss Gremmler. I don’t care about your pajamies. Heehaa! Sure don’t.“ He stepped up to the door and Margo stepped aside. He let himself in.

She followed him to the kitchen table. He sat the mugs down while she went to get the cream and sugar. “Oh, don’t you worry about that darlin’, I already put it in.”

“Oh, thanks, Stew.” Margo turned and walked back.

Stew glanced at her, then away, then back at her. “What’s up with the tiptoeing, Margo? Is someone here? Is that why you didn’t want to let me in?”

“Oh, no. It just that…” Margo stopped. It’s just that she woke up with blisters on her feet and feeling like she’d been powerlifting all night.

“I remember. You haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Yes, uh huh.” That was partially the truth. She sat and drank the cup Stew put in front of her.
“I thought the doctor put you on medication.”

“He did, but I… I’m just not sure if it’s helping.”

Stew looked at her. “Amabrain?”

Margo smiled. It was genuine. “Ambein.”

“Oh yes, yes…” Stew nodded. “Well,” Stew unfolded the newspaper, and drew out the crossword puzzle. “Sometimes those pills’ll make you do crazy stuff. It has that whatchamacallit in it that makes you forget things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my buddy Fred for instance. His son was taking that stuff. His roommate walked in late one night to find him loading his pistol. In the morning when his roommate asked him about it, he didn’t remember a thing. He had thought he was sleeping, but… well, I guess he wasn’t. I’m not up to crosswords, you want them, Margo?”

“I just want to drink this coffee, Stew, it’s going to be a busy day,” she hinted.

She watched Stew flip the page. “Oh my goodness! A real pity. Fire last night… probably some crazy teens foolin’ around with them firecrackers.”

Margo raised an eyebrow. “I gotta go shower, Stew. Thanks for the coffee.”

“No worries. I know you got customers comin’ today.” He winked.

“Oh?” Margo paused.

“Heehaw! I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. I know you’s just helping those people with their taxes or such. To tell ya the truth, if I didn’t know you, I’d say you were a drug dealer.” Stew slapped his knee and chuckled.

Margo half smiled. “Oh, no, who would ever think such a thing, Stew?”

“Just with all the people comin’ and goin’.” Stew was already up and half way out the door. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Darlin’. We all know you’re too sweet to be breakin’ the law. Librarians don’t do such things, cuz of all them books they read, they know better. Have a good’un now.”

“Bye, Stew.” Margo waved. Nelly mewed and trailed him to the door.

###

She had just finished applying makeup when her cell rang again. “Cricket?”

“Yeah, Mr. Knipple is going to be a problem.”

“He told them.”

“Detectives just left my place.”

“Shit. You’re kidding me. Do they suspect? I mean, do they know? Do you-“

“No, no, I didn’t tell them anything. I think they’re fishing. My guess is they are on their way out to your place.”

“What?”

A knock on the door. Margo startled. “They’re here. Gotta go.” She clapped the phone closed, glanced at herself in the mirror and walked to the door. She fixed a smile, turned the knob, opened.

“Hi, Miss Gremmler!” Stew smiled. He held a bunch of tulips in his hands.

“Stew, I thought you were-”

“Oh, I know I ain’t young or handsome, Miss Gremmler. I just thought you’d like these, have lots of ‘em growing up this time of year. I thought you’d like the dark purple ones. Some people even call them black. They remind me of you somehows.”

Margo glanced back and forth down the street, then back to Stew. She took the tulips. “How lovely. I’ll put them in water right away. Thank you.”

“Awww, you’re welcome.” He blushed and turned away.

Margo leaned against the door and sighed, then sprang into action. She plunged the tulips into a glass of water, grabbed her purse, phone, and notebook, then rushed out the door.

She swung her car into a wide turn at the end of the block. In her rearview mirror, she saw a police cruiser pull into her driveway.

Shoot.

She made a right at the stoplight. She had a meeting with The Big Guy, Lacklin, and he wasn’t going to be happy about this development.

###

“So, Knipple snitched on you, eh?”

“How did you know?”

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? I know everything that goes on in this town.” Lacklin sat back on the white leather couch. His feet rested on a zebra print stool. He held a glass of Chianti in his hand. “Darlin’, this happens in every dealer’s career. You just need to handle the situation.”

Margo cringed at the darlin’. She didn’t mind when Stew called her darlin’, but in Lacklin’s mouth it sounded dirty. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Lacklin leaned forward. “I’m cutting you off until you whack the guy.”

“No, no you can’t do this. I have student loans to pay off, a house payment to make, my aunt--”

Lacklin’s unibrow shot up. “Your aunt?”

Margo silenced. She didn’t want him knowing about her. Too late. “I need the drugs, Lacklin.”

“You need to off the guy, Margie.”

She grimaced. “It’s Margo.”

“I like Margie better.” Lacklin sipped his wine. A droplet fell on his freshly pressed shirt.

“Is there any other choice?”

“You could come over here and show me some sugar.” Lacklin placed his glass on the marble end table and patted his fat knee. “I might be persuadable.”

Margo stood. “That’s not going to happen.”

Malice glinted in Lacklin’s eye. “Off Knipple. Then come see me.”

She turned and walked through the room’s elegant entrance, then down the stairs to the front door. The distinct click clack of her heels made the place sound as sterile as it felt. It reminded her of her mother in her slingbacks. The murderous clink, clink on tile stairs. She couldn’t get outside quickly enough.

Her phone rang as soon as she sat down in her car. “Yeah?”

“How’d it go?”

“Sucked. He’s a no go. Cut me off.”

“What? What the fuck? What are we going to do?”

“He wants me to off him, Crick.”

“Whack Nipple?” he said this with laughter in the back of his throat.

“Yes. Kill. Die.”

“Oh.”

“Or sleep with him, but I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Sleep with Nipple?”

Margo actually laughed this time. “No, no, Lacklin.”

“Ew.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Bones?”

Margo sighed. “Yeah, but leave him to me.”

“What’eva you say, doll…”

Margo tossed the phone on the passenger seat, and glanced at the mansion. On the top floor, a red curtain drew aside; she recognized the smug face looking down at her. She backed out of the driveway, and sped down the street. Margo took a big breath, thinking. She picked up her phone and pushed speed dial before she’d time to let her breath out.

“Bones.”

“It’s Margo. I need a favor.”

“Your word is my command.”

“My prince charming.” She heard his brutish laugh on the other end.

“Always a happy ending.”

Not for Knipple. This gave Margo pause. She wanted time to think. But thinking is what got her into the shady business in the first place. Years of school, college, a doctorate in Library Science only to find there were no jobs paying more than minimum wage. The only way to make an honest living these days was to be a criminal. She hated it. Hated it all.

Knipple was a softy. He wore overalls and had a generous smile, a life of pain shown in his eyes.

Drugs numbed the pain and enabled him to live the best way he knew. But he’d snitched. And she needed to pay the bills. Someone had to pay the piper. “Someone snitched.”

Bones grunted.

Margo could almost hear him cracking his knuckles. She could imagine the pulse thudding in the middle of his bald head, his unshaven face, the creases near his eyes that grew like forked scars when he was angry. She’d only seen this look once. And it was aimed at her former partner, who had cheated on her. Once had been enough.

“No one snitches on my little sister.”

Little sister? She wondered why he called her that. He was the last person she’d want to be related to, after Lacklin.

“So, you’re thinking a little brass knuckle might shut him up?”

“More than that.”

“I think I dig your meaning.”

She heard the cock of a pistol on the other line.

“So we’re clear?”

“Very. When would you like me to do it?”

“Tonight, after dark. And be careful. Detectives rousted Cricket this morning and… holy shit-" As she turned down her street she saw the cop car. An officer was leaning against the outside, his brassy badge reflecting sunlight. She thought about driving on in hopes that he hadn’t seen her, but he smiled and waved as she passed.

“Cops at my house. I gotta go. You know what to do.”

“Sure thing, Little sis.”

She hung up, pulled in the drive, and slid the little notebook inside her purse just in time to see the cop striding over.

As he drew closer, their eyes met. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Attraction was the last emotion she had expected to feel as she slid from the car.

“Ms. Gremmler?”

She smiled and was about to reply when she felt a tug and riiippp!

“Oh!” She looked down. Her skirt had caught on the door handle.

“Looks like you’ve been snagged.”

“Uh, yes, um…” Margo looked up and felt her cheeks turn red. “Just a sec.” She stepped back and tried to elegantly unhook the skirt. It didn’t work. She was just about to rip it free when she dropped her purse, the notebook skidded across the driveway.

“Let me help you with that.” The officer knelt and gently unthreaded the skirt from the car.

“Oh, uh…” Margo smiled and blushed, then smiled some more when he gathered her purse and notebook, then handed them to her. She gulped. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

“I thought your job was to protect.” The words were out before she could stop them.

He looked up, surprised at the sharpness in her tone. “That’s right. And to serve.” He stood. “I’m Detective Jake Phillips, we received some information late last night, and I’m just here to check up on you.”

“Well, uh…” Margo raised her brows. “Jake. I’m so happy you came over to check on me, but as can see I’m perfectly fine. I was just coming home to get ready for work and-”

“It’s Detective Phillips.” The softness left his eyes, and routine took over. “And where do you work?”

“The library.”

“Browns?”

“Uh, no, Lincoln.”

“That’s a long drive.”

“Forty minutes isn’t so far.”

“Why don’t you work here at Brown’s library?”

Margo shrugged. “They didn’t have any openings.” And that was the truth. The rotten stinkin’ truth.

Detective Phillips gave her a good look over. “Can I come inside?”

Margo felt herself blushing again. “The house?”

“Where we can speak privately.”

“Um, sure.” Margo mentally noted what was where. Surely he wouldn’t search the place. He’d need a search warrant for that. In order to get a search warrant he’d need a court order and reasonable suspicion. She’d watch all this on Law and Order while waiting for customers.

“Ms. Gremmler?”

“Uh, yeah, this way.” She turned and let him follow her through the front door where Nelly greeted him.

“Good kitty,” she said.

Detective Phillips glanced around. Nelly rubbed at his legs. He bent and gave her a pat. Watching him bend was worth being suspected of a crime.

“You live here alone?”

“Just Nelly and sometimes Stew.”

“Oh?”

“My neighbor.”

Phillips’ eyebrows shot up and she quickly said, “It’s nothing like that. He’s elderly. We do crossword puzzles in the morning.”

“Ah.” He walked around the kitchen.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, no, I suppose I should let you get ready for work.”

Their eyes met again. The soft look was back on his face. Margo decided to use this. "Are you sure you wouldn’t like some hot coffee, Detective?”

This time it was Phillips who blushed. “Uh, no. No thanks, Miss.” He turned to leave. Stopped. “Where did you say your neighbor lived?”

“Oh, straight across the street, two houses down to the left. He has all the tulips in his yard.”

She saw his eyes glance over the tulips in the glass beside the sink. “I see. I think I’ll go have a chat with Stew then. Thank you for your time.”

“Uh, Detective?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you come by again?”

“We received some information last night-”

“About what?”

Phillips cocked his head to the side. “That someone was dealing drugs out of this house.”

The silence was thick. She could hear the grandfather clock tick, tick, tick.

“Oh,” Margo smiled and shrugged. “I’m just a librarian.”

Phillips looked her up and down. She watched him think.

“Have a good day, Ms. Gremmler.”

“You too.”

“I may need to come by again. You won’t mind?”

“Oh no, not at all.” She plastered a smile to her face again.

“Good then.”

He opened the door and let himself out.

Margo collapsed in the kitchen chair and shrugged out of her shoes. Damn, her feet hurt. Her shoulders hurt. Her everything hurt. She hadn’t given much thought to the pain during the busy morning.

She went to the bathroom and pulled out the salve and wraps, sat on the couch, cared for her feet, and put them up on a pillow. The clock flicked to one PM, an hour before she needed to leave. She laid back on the cozy couch arm. Sun streamed in through the raised window blind bathing her body in its warmth. Her mind drifted to her early childhood, back to long ago when she had been taken care of, always told the truth, where secrets lied muddy in the basement. She could hear the faint click, click, click of her mother’s slingbacks. Margo slept.

###

She was small, running down a dark hallway after her mother. She held a knife. “I don’t want to kill nobody, Mommy! Come back!”

Her eyes popped open. Dark. Margo moaned and grabbed her head. Her cell was ringing beside her. Margo flinched at the sound piercing through her skull.

She picked it up and glanced at the time, eight PM. “Hmmm…”

“Hey, did I wake you up?”

“I. um. Yeah.”

“But I thought you had to work at the library today.”

“I was supposed…listen I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Yeah, well, Bones called asking for you.”

“Bones?”

“Yeah, he was wondering what method he should use.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him to use a knife, ‘cause there was less evidence that way.”

Margo groaned, thinking of her dream.

“You don’t sound too good.”

“I’m fine. I just…I just need to go back to bed.”

“Well, you go on back to sleep. Everything here is taken care of. Glad to hear you’re finally sleepin’ I was worried about you on those pills and all.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me, I should probably take one.”

“Don’t take that shit if you’re already sleeping.”

She thought about Bones, his big hands holding a knife, stabbing with it. It was her fault. Hers.

“Nah, I’ll need it to stay asleep.”

“Whateva’. Catch you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

She went into the bathroom, popped a pill, and kicked off her socks. Her feet were feeling a bit better now. After brushing her hair and teeth, she slid under the sheets, trying not to think about anything, because if she thought…

In the end, she could put the laws that she’d bent during this whole fiasco behind her. But an innocent man’s death? That isn’t something you could just go out and do a bunch of good deeds to make up for. That’s something etched on your conscience, heart, soul… forever.

Breathe. Breathe. Try to stay calm… The pill kicked in.

###

Her mother screamed. This time, instead of Margo chasing her mother, it was vice versa. Margo’s mother held the knife and chased her. She chased her down a black and white tiled staircase. It kept curving, and Margo kept running. She was wearing her red sparkly Dorothy slippers. She could hear the click, click, click of her mother’s sling backs. Finally, the stair ended at a door. It was small, square, and made of rock. The door wouldn’t open. Closer, closer she heard her mother’s heels clicking down the stairs. Margo pushed, pushed against the door, and when it popped open Margo fell through. She turned to close it, but her mother was already there. Knife held high.

Margo screamed.

And awoke.

She glanced at the clock. Four AM. She reached for the covers. But her fingers were already clutching something. Something smooth and round. Her heart raced. The grandfather clock ticked. Moths fluttered against the window. Pat, pat, pat.

Margo thought of her dream. She knew what was in her hand. A knife. She took a deep breath, leaned over, flipped on the light… and gasped.

Instead of a knife, she held her cell, and in the other hand a single, long cut sliced across her palm, it was bleeding. Red dripped from her fingers to the nightstand. It covered her sheets.

“Oh!” She dropped her phone, rushed to the bathroom sink and ran water over it. Her feet ached, not because of the blisters, but as if she’d spent the evening jogging instead of sleeping.

Her cell rang.

Ugh. Not again. She wrapped her hand in a washcloth, and sprinted to her phone. Caller ID announced Unknown. Odd. It had to be Bones. Or perhaps it was Detective Phillips.

“Yeah?”

“Little sis.”

Relief flooded Margo, then guilt.

“It’s done?”

“No.”

“What?”

“Some bitch screwed the whole thing up.”

“What! What are you talking about Bones?”

“I don’t know. I had Knipple packed up in a room. I went in to get him and this woman jumps out of the closet and screams at me to get away. Scared the shit out of me. She attacks me and tries to take my knife away. I ended up stabbing her, don’t know where.”

“Holy shit, Bones…” Margo was speechless.

“Yeah, so anyways, while I was tangoing with her, Knipple gets away.”

“You’re joking. You caught up right?”

“No. He ran out the back alley.”

“Did you kill the woman?”

“No, that’s the weird thing. She was wearing all black. But it was like some kind of cammo gear. I couldn’t see her. I chased her down the stairs into an unfinished basement. She disappeared, like a ghost. I went to find a flashlight and before I knew it she hit me with a bottle. I went out like a light. My cell’s gone too. She must have taken it. I’m on my home phone.”

Margo looked down at herself. She was dressed in black tights and a black sweatshirt. “Holy shit, Bones…”

“I know. You’ve gotta be pissed. I’m sorry, Little sis. I’ve never had one get away and-”

“Holy shit, Bones.“

“You must be really mad. I’ve never heard you say that before.”

“I’m. I’m not mad. I’m…” Margo looked at her hand. “I’m not sleeping.”

“Yeah, I know you’ve been having problems with that.”

“That’s not what I mean…” Margo paused. “I’ll get back to you tomorrow. We’ll come up with a new plan.”

“Okay, Lil sis.”

“You go home and put an icepack on your head.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know she hit me on the head?”

Margo swallowed hard. “How else would you have passed out?”

“Oh. Oh yeah… Ha. Night, Lil sis.”

“Night, Bones.”

She hung up. She picked up her foot and looked at the blisters that had appeared the night before. Stew had said something about a fire. She jumped from the bed and ran to the kitchen table. The paper still lay open where he’d left it. “Mystery Woman Saves Two Children.” Margo had awakened in her PJ's that morning, but she didn't recognize the clothes she now wore, and they smelled like smoke. Huh. Spider legs crawled Margo’s spine. What the hell was going on?

Before she had a chance to begin to understand what she had just started to figure out, her phone buzzed. A text message. It was from Bone’s cell.

“Thnx 4 savin me Margo. We n/d 2 talk.”

Knipple.

Oh, boy.