Rebel Without A Clue

by Carolyn Scott

  "Good. Stay away from him. He's a loose cannon."

  No need to tell me that.

  "And lastly, we don't talk work when we're alone together out of the office."

  "Oh."

  He cocked an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous. What is it?"

  "I need to tell you something. Actually, I need to tell you a few things."

  He groaned. "Why did I get the feeling you were holding something back?"

  "In my defense, I was only holding back because I didn't think you were going to take on Roberta's case. Now that you are, we are, I can keep you informed, like you said." I held up my hands. "And I promise that after this, I'll keep work and sex separate."

  "Sex?" He frowned. "I meant—"

  "I've found the jewelry box."

  "You're kidding! Cat, you're amazing. How?"

  "His mother had it."

  "And she just gave it to you? Like that?"

  "Um, yeah." I studied my fingernails. "Although she kind of thought I was his girlfriend at the time."

  He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fuck." Then his frown deepened. "So case closed, right?"

  "Not quite. I've got the box but not the jewels."

  "It was empty?"

  "It held a key and a piece of paper with a code written on it." I fetched a notepad and pen from the bench and wrote it down. "Any idea what it means?"

  He jotted down the numbers again in different sequences, wrote letters against them, added them up, subtracted them and tried several ways to crack it. Eventually he shrugged and said, "I don't know. It could mean anything."

  "My guess is the numbers and key will help us find the jewelry, but if we can't crack the code, we're screwed." Damn gangsters. Why can't they use simple English like the rest of us? What's with codes and secrets? Doesn't anyone trust anyone anymore?

  Will scratched his chin with the end of the pen and stared into space. "Any thoughts?"

  I sat up and tucked one foot under my butt. Excitement bubbled inside but I also felt relieved to be able to kick around ideas with someone. "Maybe it's a locker number and the key opens it."

  "Could be. But where's the locker?"

  We contemplated that for a while.

  "I think we need to learn more about Lou Scarletti to understand where he could have hidden it," I said. "I made an appointment with Roberta for tomorrow morning. Who knows him better than his ex-wife, right?"

  "His girlfriend. And mother perhaps."

  "Maybe. But get this. Roberta is seeing Barry Grimes, Lou's employer." I filled him in on Grimes (not including the attempted rape), Doors Galore, and Lou's supposed job there. Then I told him about the conversation I'd overheard earlier between him and Roberta.

  "You went there! Cat, that was stupid. You could have—"

  "Adds a new dimension though, doesn't it?" I said, cutting him off before he got into full lecture mode.

  "You got that right." He stood and picked my blouse up off the floor. "You better put this on. I can't think with your breasts looking at me."

  "They're breasts, Will, they don't have eyes."

  "Whatever. They're putting me off."

  We both got dressed then sat at his kitchen bench. For the next two and half hours, we discussed the Scarletti jewels, which couldn't be seen in isolation of the murder. Will didn't repeat his threat to take me off the case if the two events were linked though. On the contrary, he seemed keen to crack them both. For the first time in, well, ever, he was more alive than I'd ever seen him. His eyes shone, his skin was flushed and his mind raced as we bandied around evidence, theories and suspects.

  Will and I brainstormed into the small hours, had sex then fell asleep. I woke up when his alarm went off at seven. You wouldn't think Will had only four hours sleep by the way he bounced out of bed.

  "Be careful with Roberta," he said as he dressed. "Don't let on that you overheard her last night."

  What did he think I was? Stupid?

  He took off for work and I fell back to sleep. When I woke up again it was nearly nine, so I had to race back to Gina's for a change of clothes and a quick shower. I skipped breakfast and managed to be only ten minutes late to Lincoln Gardens, a park not far from her place. I'd planned to meet Roberta there thinking it would be a nice day to sit out on a park bench and chat. Of course, that had been before overhearing her conversation with Grimes. Thank God I'd chosen an open park amidst a crowd of morning walkers and joggers. Roberta was no longer on my list of trustworthy people.

  I waited another ten minutes, feeling my brain fogging up from caffeine deprivation. Christ, I could have had a cup of coffee and a banana already.

  Lulled by the warm morning sun, I didn't notice Roberta approaching until her shadow fell across my line of sight.

  "Sorry, I got held up." She wore a frumpy floral dress belted at the waist and flat brown pumps that had seen better days. Despite the nanna clothes, there was something about her that didn't fit. Something in her walk, in the way she held her head and looked me right in the eyes.

  Confidence. Not too much but just enough to set alarm bells ringing. A plain Jane wouldn't have thrown herself into the seat beside me and hiked her dress up to her knees to tan her legs.

  I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed earlier. Then again, I hadn't been looking. Damn it, she was playing me all right. And that really pissed me off.

  I bit back my anger and forced a welcoming smile. "Let's talk," I said.

  "Have you found my jewelry?"

  "Not yet. I need your help."

  "Mine? How?"

  "Tell me more about Lou. What was he like? What did he do? Who were his friends? That sort of thing. I need to learn more about the man to find out where he hid your jewels."

  "Well, he was a bastard. Except when he was in jail. He was a good husband then." She gave me a conspiratorial smile. "Apart from robbing banks, he was a useless good for nothing. When he got out, he worked at Doors Galore, visited his mother every Wednesday night, drank at The Grotto every other night, and oh, yes, slept with another woman."

  I handed her a piece of paper and a pen. "Can you write down the names of his friends?"

  She scribbled four names. I already knew Mad Max and Grimes. "He lost contact with his other buddies from before jail."

  "Tell me about the crime he went to prison for."

  She gave a disinterested shrug. "He held up a bank, got caught and went down for fifteen years. They let him out after twelve." She said it like 'they' were idiots.

  "That's a long time for a robbery."

  "Aggravated assault too. The manager was hospitalized with injuries Lou gave him. Lou pleaded not guilty but he went down anyway because the other guy was never found."

  Hell-o. The article I'd read on the Internet hadn't mentioned a second thief. Mom obviously didn't know either. Looks like I'd found the reason why Dad couldn't put the case to rest. He'd failed to catch the other guy. Interesting…

  "Do you know who the other guy was? A friend?"

  "Nope, sorry. Lou had different friends in those days. And they all had friends who had friends, if you know what I mean."

  I knew, and it didn't make my job any easier. Maybe the second thief had the jewels for safekeeping while Lou left Roberta. Maybe he realized how valuable they were. And if Lou then wanted them back…

  The partner could have killed Lou to keep them.

  "Did the witnesses give a description of the other man?"

  "They both wore masks. Lou's got ripped off because he's a fat slob who can't run fast if his life depended on it. The other guy was athletic. He jumped the wall out the back of the bank and got away on foot before the cops arrived. Lou got away too, just, but witnesses ID'd him pretty quick."

  Grimes looked athletic. "So they arrested Lou later?"

  She nodded. "They raided one of his friend's houses the next day and found him hiding out."

  "Which bank did they hold up?"

  "City Wide in Stonewater."

  The outer su
burb of Stonewater's claim to fame was having the largest shopping mall in Renford. Apparently if you take a wrong turn, you can end up lost for hours in chain store hell.

  "Is that where Lou did his banking?"

  "City Wide? Not when we were married."

  I looked down at the list of names and pointed to the top one. "How well do you know this man?"

  "Barry Grimes? Why?" The slight rise in her voice was barely audible but I noticed it.

  "Lou worked for him. I thought maybe you'd met him."

  "Oh. No, never. Or the others. I've just heard their names."

  I thanked her and made some excuse about getting back to work. We headed in opposite directions, then I doubled back to my car, that turned out to be not far from where Roberta had parked her car.

  I followed her to her place, a 1960's cream brick house in the middle of suburbia with a garden that looked like it had once been pretty but was now overgrown with knee-high weeds. I nearly didn't recognize her when she re-emerged half an hour later wearing black leather pants, a hot pink top stretched tightly over boobs boosted by a Wonderbra, and her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She wore gold hoops the size of CDs in her ears and stilettos so high they'd have made me dizzy. She looked like Tacky Disco Barbie.

  She got into her car and I followed her on her morning errands. It was a complete waste of time but at least I avoided office work for a few more hours. She went to the beautician for three quarters of an hour and came out with a new set of acrylics. Then she went to the market and bought fresh fruit, some meat and cheese, and flirted with the grocer, butcher and every other man she could lay her eyes on. And I thought Gina was bad. She had nothing on Roberta.

  After wandering through the market, I was starving and desperate for coffee. When we passed the stall selling coffee beans, I considered jumping into the open sacks and rolling around in them but the scowling merchant didn't look like the understanding sort. I was only able to keep moving forward by holding my breath.

  We left the market and headed to the bank. While Roberta did her banking, the smell of coffee drew me to a nearby café. I ordered a take-out and drank it in one gulp on the sidewalk, one eye on the bank door. It must have been the shock of much-needed caffeine hitting my deprived system, but I had a brilliant thought.

  The four-digit code could be a bank's safety deposit box number. What safer place to hide the jewels from his wife than in a bank? Unless some wise ass like himself decided to hold it up.

  The irony made me laugh.

  After the bank, Roberta drove north along Miles Road for about fifteen minutes. As I followed, my energy levels started to drop. I needed food. I rummaged through my glove compartment but only came out with a mint. I popped it in my mouth and chewed. When we turned into Lou's street, I suddenly perked up.

  The crime scene tape had come down but cops still maintained a presence. I wondered if Stankovic or Scarface were watching and sank low into my seat just in case. But a quick scan of the area told me neither was present.

  Roberta slowed but didn't stop. I wondered why she'd even bothered to drive past. Surely she knew the cops wouldn't let her into the crime scene.

  She returned home and I called it quits. I parked on the side of the road and turned my cell phone on. I'd switched it off for my meeting with Roberta. There were three missed calls, all from Will. I ignored them and called Scarface.

  "Forde," he said down the line.

  "It's me, Cat."

  "Ah, my feline friend. What's up?"

  "I want to talk to you."

  "Do you know where Mama Lina's is?"

  "It's only one of my favorite cafés in Renford."

  "Considering it's on The Strip, that doesn't surprise me. Meet me there in twenty."

  I hung up and drove to The Strip. I was early but Scarface was already waiting. He wore black jeans, heavy boots and a leather jacket even though it was a warm day. It probably hid the holstered gun I'd caught a glimpse of once before. He sat in a booth at the back, facing the door, slightly slouched with his arms resting on the table. He tapped one end of an unlit cigarette on the surface, let it glide through his fingers then flipped it and tapped the other end. He repeated the motion, over and over. It was the only movement in his otherwise easy, relaxed pose.

  When he saw me he raised his brows in recognition. As I crossed the length of the café, I noticed a few females glancing his way. Whether they were glances of wariness or because he looked as scrumptious as the cakes displayed in the glass cabinet, I couldn't be sure.

  "Hey," he said. He stopped tapping the cigarette and returned it to its packet. "You look good. Insurance clothes?"

  "Do you think I can afford Prada on my salary?"

  "Not if I know Knight the way I do. I bet he's tight."

  "The tightest." Which made Tanya's betrayal bite even harder. She knew how careful he was about spending. Thinking of Will gave me a twinge of guilt for speaking to the one man he told me to stay clear of. In my defense, he was the only one who could help.

  A waitress came and Scarface ordered black coffee. I ordered a latté, an omelet, a side of fries and a salad. That should leave just enough room for cake.

  "I need some information," I said.

  "And I thought you couldn't stay away from me because you liked me."

  "I do like you."

  His only response was a lazy smile.

  I swallowed. Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that.

  I studied the list of names Roberta had given me to hide my burning cheeks. "Do Barry Grimes and Mad Max have any priors? And what about Gordy 'Fat Bastard' Swinson and Craig 'Thumper' Dunleavy? And why's he called Thumper?"

  Scarface's teeth flashed in a grin. "That's a trade secret. I haven't spent years getting in with that crowd only to reveal it to a woman who's been around five minutes. No offense."

  "None taken. But now I'm really curious."

  "Let's just say, it's not just because he likes to thump people."

  "Oh-kay." Our orders arrived and I stuffed omelet into my mouth until the hole in my stomach filled. Scarface watched, amused.

  "As to the priors," he said, "they've all got them. Thumper and Fat Bastard for assault, Mad Max for armed robbery and attempted murder and Grimes for indecent exposure."

  "That doesn't surprise me."

  He went very still. "Why?"

  I waved my hand, wishing I hadn't brought it up. "We had a chat one day and he seems to think when a woman tells him to get fucked, she's making him an offer."

  He stabbed his finger on the table. "From now on, stay away from Grimes. He's a nasty piece of work. Indecent exposure's just the tip of the iceberg."

  "Roberta Scarletti seems to like him."

  He just looked at me.

  "Did Lou introduce Grimes to Max?" I asked.

  He didn't answer.

  "I already know they're acquaintances. I saw them together at The Grotto."

  "You should work undercover," he said.

  "Why, because I'm a good actress and blend in?"

  "Nope." He tapped the side of his head. "No brains, no fear."

  "Ha, ha, funny."

  His jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Listen, Cat. I don't want to see you at The Grotto ever again. I don't want you within a mile of that place, and that goes for Grimes, Mad Max and their buddies. Stay away. Got it?" The menacing tone made my skin shrivel and tighten. If I were a suspect and he was playing bad cop, I wouldn't hold up under interrogation.

  But I wasn't. I'd done nothing wrong and I could do as I damn well pleased. Hell, if I wanted to put myself in the line of danger, that was my prerogative. Not that I had any intention of doing so, but there was a point in there somewhere, damn it.

  Telling him so wouldn't get him off my back, however. In fact, it would probably make him put a man on me. How's a girl supposed to secretly rendezvous with her boss then?

  So I saluted him instead. "Yes, sir."

  He growled. "Promise me
, Cat, or I'll tell Will you've been meeting with me."

  Bastard. "Fine, I promise." Yeah, as if.

  He pushed my empty plate aside. "Good." He brushed my fingers with his own. "Now, let's talk about us."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Uh-uh. You're not getting out of this, Cat. I've been thinking about you, and I know you want me. Meet me tonight."

  "Tonight? As in … tonight?" Gulp. "I might be working late."

  "No, you won't be. I'll call Knight and tell him you've got a hot date. He'll let you off, I'm sure." His grin was pure wickedness.

  "No, you can't! He's got a meeting late today and won't be in the office."

  "Then you can sneak off, can't you?"

  Damn. "I suppose."

  "I'll pick you up at Gina's. Wear something sexy." He got up, kissed me on the cheek and left.

  I sat in a daze until the waitress took my plate away. "You okay?" she asked. "You look pale."

  "I think I'm about to do something very bad," I whispered.

  She looked over her shoulder at Scarface's retreating butt and smiled. "Lucky you."

  I skipped cake because my appetite had vanished, and drove back to the office, hoping Will wouldn't be there. I didn't want to face him while I was flustered—he'd guess I was up to no good. So I sat in the Civic and watched people going in and out of Gina's flower shop. Next door was quiet. Knight Investigations' clients rarely visited the office. It was more of a presence than a place to conduct business. Will and Carl performed most of their work off-site or over the phone. New customers came to us through recommendations and usually set up meetings at their place of business. No one ever walked in off the street and hired us on the spot.

  Which made Roberta an anomaly. In our original meeting she'd said she'd found a Sinclair Investigations business card among Lou's things. Dad must have given it to him after he'd gone to jail in the hope Lou would give up his partner.

  I got out of the car and went inside. Carl's door was open and he was nowhere to be seen. Will emerged from his own office and stormed down the hallway like a charging bull. Christ, just what I needed. A moody Will and me on a guilt trip.

  "That was a long meeting," he said, suspicion etched into every frown line.