THE SECRET GARDEN OF MARTHA GRIM.
By Richard A. Lopez

page 15

Seasons passed, as seasons do. Halloween came as Thanksgiving and Christmas, too.

Winter came with rain and snow, and blowing winds.

And Sheriff Quinn was still nowhere to be found.

Porters Crossing was growing in fear.



There were theories, ideas, accusations. The usual suspects were rounded up, and in Porter that usually meant Willie Cole. He was held for the requisite forty-eight hours, but then had to be let go, when even the FBI could not find a reason to hold him. He was still a person of interest, but there was no solid proof.

Everywhere he went, Willie felt the eyes of suspicion fall on him. it was affecting his daily life, his work, and his client list. Many of the people on that list were friends of Quinn, and they did not want a possible Killer, doing their lawn. Even still, some thought the notoriety was something to talk about. Small town folk were such assholes, he thought...
Even so, Willie had to give up his place in town,and move in with Ann Hawkins, it was just getting too much. The whispers, the looks. The fights! Yeah, he'd gotten into a few scrapes, That jerk from the hardware store, Infano and his kid, Rudy. Little bastard could hit. And then there was Hawkins. Ever since he hooked up with that guys ex-old lady, nothin but trouble. Him and his kid. That brat was always in the way. Getting so they couldn't be spontaneous, had to watch out for the brat. Why she didn't just let Hawkins take the runt, was beyond him. Child support, she would say. Meal ticket is all it was, Willie thought. Man that broad was a schemer. More so than he. He'd kick her to the curb if she wasn't such a nice piece of tail.
Thinking of that made Willie smile. So much so, that he almost missed seeing Infano's truck drive by and down the street. Towards Her house...Grim's house.
He watched as Infano's kid drove up to the gate, then through. What the hell! That bitch!
She never took deliveries, hell, she never took anything, and here she is letting that dumb ass kid drive up like he was "laying the pipe" to her.
Maybe he was? Stranger shit has happened in this dumb town. Willie couldn't think about that, he had to get into that yard. Get a sample of that soil . A plant, a flower, anything!
He just had to get in there. Willie knew that if he could find out the secret to her garden, he could write his own ticket, charge these bastards anything he wanted..hell he could sell the secret to the major lawn and garden companies..he'd be rich! He just needed to get into that garden. He just needed an in. Now he just may have found it.
Infano's truck was in there for about a half an hour, then it came out, it made one stop, and Ms.McDeal's house just across the way from Grim's. Infano was there for about ten minutes. Then he drove off towards town.
Willie's mind was already forming a plan, when Ann walked into the room, dressed only in a towel. Her hair dripping wet from the shower. Yeah, he was working on a plan, and this wet bitch was going to help him, only she didn't know it. The hair dryer kicked on, and he could see her drying her hair, that hair he'd seen whip wildly around many times before. Yeah, she was going to help him, her and the brat. And if she even tried to say no, he'd take a fist-full of that beautiful dark hair and slam her face into the wall.

Ann had called his name three times before he realised she was even talking to him. He blinked himself back to reality, and asked what?
"I said, what are you smiling about?" she said, slightly annoyed at having to repeat herself a third time.

"What I'm going to do to you later." he lied.

"One track mind.." she said, with a giggle, and went back to her hair.

'Yeah', he thought, "more like what you're going to do for me, bitch!" he smiled and turned to gaze out the window at the Grim house.
"Yeah" he whispered..."yeah"...his mind went back to formulating dark thoughts and deadly plans.

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If it was possible to be even more depressed than he was when he had gone into his Two-thirty appointment with Melvin Sharpleton, Attorney at Law, John Hawkins wouldn't have thought so. He had held on to some glimmer of hope that he would be able to obtain sole custody of Tommy, what with Ann moving that damn deadbeat, Cole, into their house! His house! Tommy withdrawing more and more everyday. John knew it was because of the divorce, and Ann's relationship with Cole, but as Attorney Sharpleton had put it, it was only speculation and conjecture, and therefore open to scrutiny and interpretation under the law.
"Scrutiny! I got your goddamn scrutiny!" John shouted. "I can pull a dozen witnesses that will testify that Tommy was a happy child six months ago! Now look at him. Now he's withdrawn, he doesn't even smile anymore, and that kid smiled every fucking day!"

Sharpleton sat back, unfazed at John's outburst, "Mr. Hawkins, John, I understand your frustration, really I do, but no amount of witnesses, and believe me they would help, but not as much as a professional opinion would." He stood up, and crossed around his desk to stand beside John, he was a large man, not heavy, just a big, bear of a man, who looked more comfortable in jeans and a flannel shirt, than he did in the twelve hundred dollar Armani suit he wore. Old money, he had told John, on their first meeting.
"Now, I have a motion going before Judge Leahmans, and I'm sure we will have no problems getting this through. She wants to see Tommy, and your wife's..."

"Ex-wife." John corrected"

"Ex-wife," Sharpleton continued, a bit bothered at being corrected, "The Judge wants to see the boy, and make her own decision as to whether or not he is in need of an evaluation. Now if she determines that he is, then we get to name the doctor, and I have one that is an expert. Not some hack, but an expert in child psychology and behavior. Plus we can put any number of character witnesses before the Judge. Your Ex-wife won't have a leg to stand on. You just have to promise to do what I asked of you and obey the damn restraining order. Now, these claims of harassment, any merit to those?"
His gaze was hard.
John met his gaze with equal steel..
"No. I told you, that clown made a move to hit my son. I was not going to stand by and watch like some impotent fool. So I grabbed his arm, he took a swing at me, I blocked it, and two hits, I hit him, he hit the floor. Ask Carmine and Rudy Infano, they were there. So was Carrie McDeal. It was right outside of Infano's hardware."

Sharpleton couldn't help but notice the slight smile on Hawkins face, he frowned, faining disapproval, but inside he couldn't help but chuckle. Many a times had he wanted to slam that Cole in the face, but his lawyer side would prevail over poor judgement.
"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "We can't have anymore of that. What you have to do is try to stay clear of him. Do your best to ignore him. Hard as it may be, for Tommy's sake. Any signs of trouble will get back to her lawyer, and that weasel is just itching to report that. So you're going to have to be on your best behavior, or we're sunk. Understand?"

There was no answer...

Sharpleton repeated himself, a bit louder, "Do we have an understanding, John?"

"Yes, no hitting the dipshit, till after this is over..I got it." John said dejectedly..
"OK then..We'll see you on the 25Th. It will work out, John, but you have to trust me."
"Yeah..." John thought.."I trusted you with my divorce you bastard, and look where that got me..."

John walked back to his apartment in town, thinking of alternative ways to get his son back....