Free Crunch Time by Diane Mott Davidson Page B

what he was going to do, so I rolled myself in front of him. That bastard pulled off my eleke and then pushed me aside.”
    “ Eleke ?” Tom asked, bewildered.
    “A beaded necklace,” Ferdinanda explained. “It is sacred. But listen. That bastard Kris took that broomstick and hit my dear Yolanda two times. Crack, on one arm. Then crack, on the other.”
    My mouth dropped open as I glanced at Yolanda. Her left hand covered her eyes in shame.
    Ferdinanda concluded by saying, “That’s when we decided, we have to move out.”
    “You didn’t tell me,” I whispered to Yolanda.
    “I couldn’t tell you, Goldy,” said Yolanda, still not looking at us. “I was ashamed.” She did glance up at me then. “He hit me so hard I thought my bones were broken. They swelled up, then turned black and blue. My long sleeves covered up the bruises.”
    “Yeah,” said Ferdinanda. “Tell her about the VD, too.”
    Inside the dark van, I could just make out Yolanda’s face turning scarlet. She said, “Crabs. I’ve been treated. I got it from him, but I’m all right now. It was nothing that would affect food handling. I told Ernest, in case he didn’t want me fixing his dinners. He knew all about STDs and their treatment, and he told me not to worry about it.”
    “Did you file a police report, Yolanda?” asked Tom gently. “Over the fact that Kris hit you?”
    “No,” she replied in a low voice. “Later, when we were in the rental and things started happening, I called the police. But back then? When he hit me? I just wanted to get out of there.”

4
    I interrupted. “Tom, let me get them back to their place.”
    “Just remind me,” said Tom, his tone still gentle, “was Ernest investigating Kris? Trying to prove he’d been harrassing you?”
    Yolanda looked down and sighed.
    Ferdinanda shook a gnarled index finger at Tom. “Not yet. But Ernest, he promised he would help as soon as he finished up some other things.”
    “Some other things?” said Tom.
    Yolanda intervened. “He was going to help me. But he had to finish up the divorce case, the puppy mill, investigating Humberto and the missing assets. After that, he was going to go after Kris. Ferdinanda is right. He promised.” Another sob escaped her lips.
    Ferdinanda dug in her pocket for the tissue. She muttered, “Humberto,” and spat into the tissue.
    Tom pressed her again. “Did Kris by any chance know that Ernest was going to investigate him?”
    Yolanda looked out the van windshield. “I’m not sure. But Ernest did say he was going to, you know, open a file on Kris.”
    “When did he say this to you?” Tom asked.
    “I don’t remember.”
    Tom’s fingers tapped the dashboard. “He was going to open a computer file? A paper file?”
    “I told you, he had a nice handmade cabinet, with hanging files in it.” Yolanda’s tone had turned sour again. “I didn’t check to see if he had a file on Kris.”
    “Tom, please,” I said again. “It’s getting late. The puppies need to be fed. Can we go?”
    “Just one more thing. Does either one of you know how to shoot?”
    “Tom!” I cried. “You said they weren’t suspects.”
    Yolanda sighed. “It’s all right, Goldy. No, I told you before, Tom. I do not know how to shoot a gun, and I don’t want to learn.”
    Ferdinanda frowned in defiance. “ I know how to shoot. I was a francotiradora, how do you say, sniper, in Raul’s army. Somebody comes after me or Yolanda? I will shoot them.”
    “And that’s all either one of them is going to say without a lawyer,” I interjected.
    Tom turned in his seat to eye me directly. “Listen to me. I want you to ask permission of the investigators at Ernest’s house before you go in and touch anything. Understand?”
    “All right, ” I said.
    “Yolanda,” said Tom, “do you have a remote to get into Ernest’s garage?”
    “Uh,” she said, “yes.”
    “Good,” said Tom. “Still, when you all see the police car, I want you to honk or