Mean Woman Blues

saying too much.
    He interpreted her hesitation as depression. “I understand.”
    She went back and picked up her phone to try Isaac again. There was a message from Shellmire. “Skip, call me right away. It’s urgent.”
    Damn! She’d only been gone a few minutes. She should have taken her cell phone. She punched in Shellmire’s number, fingers fumbling. “Turner, it’s Skip.”
    “Bad news, kid. Somebody’s shot Isaac Jacomine.”
    She drew in her breath.
Hell! I should have known.
    “They took him to Charity.”
    She breathed again; he was alive. “How bad is it?”
    “It doesn’t look good. It’s…” He didn’t want to tell her, she could tell. “It’s a head shot.”
    “Shit!”
    “I hear you. Look, I’ve got to go; I’ve got to wrestle your guys to let me assist.”
    “Wait a minute. Where are you?”
    “On my way to his house— he was shot in the front yard.”
    “He must have been coming home. Did it just happen?”
    “Few minutes ago. Why do you say that?”
    “We’ve been playing phone tag. He was ‘it.’ I’m coming over, Turner.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer and regretted having to do that; it meant she couldn’t ask any of the questions on the tip of her tongue.
    But she had to; she had no official place in this investigation, and Turner needed to manufacture a way to get her in. She’d given him a few minutes to think.
    As she drove up, so did a young woman in a beat-up old car— a pretty woman but a little straight for Isaac, maybe not his girlfriend. She figured he’d go for a more Bohemian-looking babe. Ah, but on closer inspection she did have a tattoo on her arm. That was more like it.
    “Hi,” she said, as if she knew the girl. “You a friend of Isaac’s?”
    The girl looked terrified. “What’s wrong? Why are these police cars here?”
    Behind her, she heard someone call, “Terri? Terri, stay right there. He’s all right. I’m coming right over to talk to you. Everything’s all right, now. Just stay right there.”
    Skip turned to see who it was. “Pamela!” she cried, genuinely delighted to see the large woman who’d befriended Isaac so long and so often.
    And at that, Pamela’s face fell apart. She collapsed on Skip’s shoulder. “Oh, Skip. Omigod, Skip! Those bastards.” She was sobbing so hard she couldn’t say any more.
    The young woman— Terri, evidently— walked around Skip and the sobbing Pamela, so that she faced Skip. She’d apparently figured out that everything wasn’t all right, despite Pamela’s protestations. Her face was chalk-white, and she had a wild look in her eye. Skip said, “Terri? Sit down. Right there, right now. Put your head down.”
    That brought Pamela out of it. “Terri, I’m so sorry.” She knelt and put her arm around the girl, who had— apparently gratefully— obeyed Skip’s instructions. “Isaac’s in the hospital. Someone, uh… it looks like someone… uh… someone shot him.”
    A huge wail escaped from Terri, clueing Skip in that she probably was Isaac’s girlfriend. Seeing her on the sidewalk, so young and vulnerable, made her think of Isaac’s niece. She said to Pamela, “Has anyone called Lovelace?” at which point Terri said, “How do you know Lovelace? Who are you?”
    “I’m an old friend of Isaac’s.”
    “Detective Skip Langdon,” Pamela said. “She’s the cop that almost got blown up by Isaac’s father a few years ago. You remember that.”
    “Isaac’s father?” the girl said. “Isaac’s never mentioned his father.”
    Pamela and Skip looked at each other. “Oh, Jesus,” the fat woman murmured. “Let’s all three of us all go in for a cup of… Oh, shit! I was making tea for Isaac when he was… Oh, fuck!”
    While she collected herself, Skip turned to Terri. “You okay now?”
    The girl nodded, looking anything but.
    “Let me help you up.”
    “You’re a… cop?”
    Skip gave her a smile she didn’t feel— anything to put her at ease. “Yeah, but I’ve posed for Isaac; you might even have seen the picture.”
    Terri looked at her critically. “Yeah. I know you… sure, I’ve seen it many times.”
    Skip gave her another weak smile. She had to get to Shellmire. “Listen, go with Pamela and let her tell you what she knows. I’m going to see if I can get some more details.”
    Obediently, they went into Pamela’s house, the thin young woman and the fat middle-aged one, united in their affection for Isaac. Skip had wondered often how