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Ten
Anton Ward's girlfriend, Lauralene Taylor, lived at home with her mother on Hancock Street. I wanted to question the
Taylors, and I thought it was best to do it alone. Less threatening that way, and I didn't think I'd need help. This was basically a fishing trip in a neighborhood that was hard times but not in the red zone on the danger meter.
Houses were small, in varying degrees of disrepair, and largely multiple family. The population was ethnically mixed. The economy was a hair above desperate. Mostly the inhabitants were working poor.
I drove past Francine Taylors house, didn't see any activity, and decided it was safe to approach. I parked the Lincoln a couple houses away, locked up, and walked back.
The Taylor house was better than most in the neighborhood.
The exterior was a faded lime green, halfway between bare wood and fresh paint. Shades looked inexpensive, but had been neatly raised to the same level on all windows. The small porch was covered with green indoor-outdoor carpet. Porch furnishings consisted of a rusted metal folding chair and a large glass ashtray filled with butts.
I hesitated a moment, listening before knocking. I didn't hear any yelling behind the closed door, no gunshots, no big dog snarling. Just the muffled hum of a television. So far, so good. I rapped once and waited. I rapped a second time.
A very pregnant kid opened the door. She was a couple inches shorter than me, dressed in pink sweats not designed for maternity.
Her face was round and smooth with baby fat. Her hair had been straightened and bleached honey blond. Her skin was dark, but her eyes had an Asian tilt. Much too pretty for Anton Ward, and much too young to be pregnant.
'Yeah?' she said.
'Lauralene Taylor?'
'You're either a cop or social services,' she said. 'And we don't want none.'
She tried to close the door, but my foot was in the way.
'I represent Anton's bond agent. Is Anton here?'
'If Anton was here, you'd be dead.'
Lauralene sounded like she thought that would be a good thing, giving me pause to rethink my opinion of her. 'Anton needs to reschedule his court date,' I said.
'Yeah, like that's gonna happen.'
Tour mother used this house as collateral. If Anton doesn't show up for court your mother will lose her house.'
'Anton will take care of us.'
Mrs Taylor came to the door, and I introduced myself.
'I have nothing to say to you,' Francine Taylor said. 'You're talking about the father of my unborn grandchild. You need to take this up with him.'
'You signed the bond document,' I said. 'You used your house as collateral. If Anton doesn't show up for court you'll lose this house.'
'He won't let that happen,' Francine said. 'He has connections.'
'He has no connections,' I said. 'If he stays in the area we'll catch him, and he'll go to jail. His only other option is to run. And if he runs, he's not going to take a pregnant woman with him. And he's not going to care if you keep this house. You'll be on the street with nothing.'
It was the truth. And I could see that Francine knew it. She wasn't as dumb as her kid.
'I knew I shouldn't have put the house up for him,' Francine said. 'It was just I wanted him to turn out good for Lauralene.'
This dump isn't worth nothing anyway,' Lauralene said.
'I work hard to make my payments on this house,' Francine said.
'It's a roof over your head. And it's gonna be the only roof over your baby's head. And I'm not losing it for no worthless Anton Ward.'
