Without the orbs of the optimist we must be content with drought
Jul0
Suddenly I was extremely restless and took my thoughts on a walk toward Missey’s just to check out the area. If Robbie was involved in Teri’s death it would be in the arena of hiring someone to do it. Consequently, I was totally alert… almost to the point of expectation… of anything. It was a heightened sense of awareness. I then realized that I probably looked suspicious walking in my favorite shade of attire… black including the boots.
There were people meandering tonight. Parking attendants were filling up the initial spaces on Carpenter Street… jumping out and running back. A young couple, arm in arm, was walking down toward Ventura. Another couple was walking up with their little yapper of a dog. He tried to show me his superiority and I marginalized him by saying: “Hi puppy.” Guess it worked. He stopped yapping. It seemed like a longer walk tonight, but eventually I got to a point where I could see her place and someone else walking a dog and incidentally dressed in dark clothing. I didn’t want to appear dangerous and lechy, but I had to walk faster to be able to maintain pace with the woman. Everything about her was black including her dog. Then she turned toward me, her eyes opened wide as if in fear. She was black. I quickly smiled, said: “Hi, didn’t mean to scare you.” She smiled back as I whisked by.
A few minutes later and with Ventura Boulevard in view, I stopped. It was as if I had gained fresh eyes. What was I thinking? If this is all connected it’s not Robbie. It was all in front of me just waiting to be seen. I thought of what I had recently written. “The orbs of the optimist… the seer… without that we have little… we must be content with drought. But, fresh eyes watch the rainfall and see the blossoms of tomorrow.”
The sound of my phone shook away any thoughts. It was Whitey. “Robbie confessed. Actually, he didn’t confess, he admitted guilt, but not to murder. The son-of-a-bitch is a hell of a lot more than he appears. Sam calls him the definition of slime. We can’t touch his alibi and have nothing on him except theft and you aren’t pressing charges for that.”
I interrupted him. “So, what did he admit guilt to?”
“Get this… he created a scenario. What if the person that the old woman reportedly saw get in the car with Teri wasn’t the murderer…. It’s possible it could have been someone she knew and was having a disagreement with. Perhaps that person was kicked out a few blocks later and Teri drove up to your place.”
“My place?”
“I asked the same question and he responded ‘Why not, she loved him.’ Although, he said that with a huff.”
Those words of love hit with impact and then hovered ever so gently. “So who was the person she knew according to his scenario?”
“He didn’t say, but it was him. I’ll bet my ass on it and we can’t prove it and he knows it. I don’t know if he’s rubbing that in our faces or what, but I’ll tell you this… it comes back to you buddy boy just like I felt. And, she married him for the money. Sam’s working on tying him into that. He was their attorney and still is. He had to be aware of the arranged marriage.
