Leann Sweeney - Shoot from the Lip

She led me into a living room with old-fashioned dark paneling. Between the paneling and the double window covered by heavy drapes, I felt claustrophobic. But the carpet seemed new and freshly vacuumed, and if there was a speck of dust anywhere, I couldn’t have found it. The house didn’t smell of tobacco, so she probably smoked only outside.

I chose an armchair with a clean towel tucked carefully over the floral cushion, and she sat on the edge of a mismatched plaid sofa, her hands clenched in her lap.

“There’s no easy way to tell you, so I’ll start with what you thought you knew. Christine didn’t leave town. She was murdered.”

Loreen gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “She… she’s dead?”

“They found her body in 1997, but she remained unidentified until the TV show came to Houston and Emma asked me to investigate what happened to her baby sister and her mother. I discovered a cold-case death, and the victim turned out to be Christine.”

“I didn’t hear nothing about that on the news,” Loreen said.

“You will soon enough. Anyway, I’m hoping you can help me learn why she was murdered. I’m not sure if it’s connected to the baby’s death, but I suspect so. And here’s another important piece of information that hasn’t been reported in the press. That baby they found last week wasn’t Christine’s.”

Loreen shook her head vigorously. “You’re talking crazy now. I went through all nine months with her. Even knew the guy she was sleeping with when she got pregnant.”

“Who was the father?”

“A teenager who lived across the street from her-kid who had to be ten years younger. He liked to drink, and she was happy to supply the booze and drink with him. One night he drove drunk smack into a hill full of bluebonnets off Highway 6. Christy and me went there and left flowers by this white cross his parents put where he died. I was the one who cried. She didn’t.”

I swallowed. I already knew Christine O’Meara had led a life filled with mistakes and tragedy, and here was more of the same. “Emma was present when her mother gave birth, but the infant found under the house belonged to someone else. That’s what I need help with.”

“Maybe it was there when Christy moved in. Maybe it’s just chance that-”

“There are no coincidences when it comes to murder, Loreen. Somehow Christine’s baby was switched for the one found under the house. I truly believe that’s why Christine was killed-because she made a deal with someone. Could she have been in contact with a trafficker in black-market babies?”

“I don’t know. She told me she gave the baby to CPS, and that’s why I mentioned the kid in the letter. I thought Emma should know she had a sister out there somewhere.”

“She never mentioned a baby broker, and she didn’t give you the story about the husband who beat her and ran off with the child?”

“That?” Loreen laughed scornfully. “The beating story was only for the people we hung with at the bar we used to go to. She wanted everyone to feel sorry for her ’cause then they’d buy her drinks. But us two were close, and I thought she was telling me this big secret about CPS because we were friends. That’s what friends do, right? Tell each other important shit?”

I nodded, thinking, But friends do not share that they have buried a baby under their house.

Loreen went on, saying, “Christy talked all the time about not wanting the kid, how she couldn’t handle the ones she already had, how they got in the way and how Emma always needed money for some crap at school. Those were her words, ‘some crap at school.’ But she never said she’d sell the baby. That’s what you’re saying, right? She sold her?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. But you stayed friends with Christine for years afterward?”

Loreen hung her head, twisting a silver ring on her pinkie finger. “I was only seventeen when we met, and she let me work with her cleaning houses. I was trying to save enough money to get by without Jimmy selling me every night to whatever slobbering jerk walked down the street. Course, I never got away from him until he went to jail.”

“Bet that was a relief.” She’d been abused, treated like a slave, probably most of her life.

“Yeah, but this isn’t about me. I still don’t understand why you think Christy was killed because of the baby thing,” Loreen said. “She disappeared five years after the baby came and went.”

“That bothers me, too. Did she have extra cash after the baby was born? Or a new TV? New clothes? Anything?”

Loreen sat in thought for probably a full minute. “A few times Christy had money to throw around-nothing big, a couple hundred bucks, maybe. Once when I asked where she got it, she said Emma’s family. But the father was supposed to be dead, so I didn’t get it, you know? Did she lie about him, too? Is he still around?”

“No, he died before Emma was born.” But I knew Xavier Lopez’s widow sent money for Emma. Maybe she also sent Christine money in exchange for her silence. “Were there any other times you remember she had cash to burn?”

“Only that time she went to Vegas to make her million-that’s what she said, make her million. She wanted me to go with her, said she’d pay my way, but I couldn’t. Jimmy would have killed me.”

“Jimmy is James Caldwell?” It wouldn’t hurt to remind her I pretty much knew her whole life story.

“That’s right.” She crossed her legs and one foot began to bob.

“When was this trip?”

“You know, I think it was the same year she had the baby-yeah, it had to be, because I remember her saying she wanted to get rid of the leftover baby weight before she took the trip.”

“Did she leave town often?”

Loreen sat back. “That’s the only time I remember.”

“How did she get to Las Vegas? Did someone take her?”

“Who would do that? It’s not like there was all these rich dudes hanging around the bar.” Loreen squinted, seemed to be thinking. “She was only gone for a couple days, if I remember right, and when she came back she went on this giant binge, told me she lost almost every penny playing the slots.”

“But she’d had enough cash for a plane ticket and a vacation before she gambled away most of her money. Think hard. Are there any other times you recall her having extra cash?”

“She always had money for booze, even if it was just beer, but I thought that was because she was working more, spending less time at Rhoda’s-that was the place we drank together. Christy could clean a house like nobody’s business when she wasn’t on a binge.”

“And you’d been helping her with the cleaning? Maybe took up the slack when she was too drunk?”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t as much of a drunk that year before she disappeared, and you probably think this is weird, but Christy and I? We worked good together. Drunks and whores can do some things right. We were a team.”

“Such a good team you decided to go into business together?”

Loreen tilted her head. “How did you find out all this stuff?”

“I’ll explain later. What about your business plans?”

“I thought she was serious, but then she split… sorry. That’s not right, is it? She got herself killed.”

“How did you plan on getting the money to start up? You’d need more than the flyers Emma made that you stuck on telephone poles.”

For the first time since I’d arrived, Loreen smiled. “Emma made those? Christy always said Emma was the real mom in the family. That’s why I called CPS when Christy didn’t come back.”

“You called CPS? I thought they showed up because Emma was missing school.”

“She was. I went to Christy’s house to see if she was sick or something, ’cause she hadn’t been around. This kid answers the door and she’s covered in chicken pox. I asked where her mother was, and she said she’d been gone a long time. She said her big sister, Emma, went to get milk but she’d be right back. So I left and called CPS. It’s anonymous, you know. You can call and no one checks on you or anything.”