Lenny carried his napping sister into the two-story building in the heart of HB. Phoebe followed, looking around. She liked this location and there had been ample parking out back. The red brick building was older than others they’d checked and had a comfortable, secure feel about it.
They were guided to a corner suite that had two small rooms with wide, low windows. She imagined the front room with a sofa and coffee table and the back room with a couple of chairs for her clients to sit across from a sturdy work desk and a leather swing chair. There was room for a filing cabinet in the corner and maybe even a hidden safe. She tapped the wall to check the distance between studs. Workable.
She opened a window and leaned out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. She scanned the surrounding buildings and the four-way lighted crosswalk below to get a good look at who her neighbors might be. The traffic noise was loud but the sound of cars and pedestrians felt comforting.
Still carrying a sound-asleep Molly, Lenny came over and tilted his head across the street. “See that building.”
“Hmm hm.” Phoebe gazed at the high-rise he indicated. It looked like a professional place that would be filled with suited young men and smartly dressed young woman on the rise to fame and fortune. “They must consider us an eye-sore.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That window directly across...guess who works there?”
“Janet?” Phoebe asked, with a wry smile. “Is that her private office where she stashes all her ill-gotten info about the Clays?"
“Close,” Lenny said. “That’s Morgan’s office.”
Nailed it. Phoebe signed the lease papers. As they left the premises, she received a text from Aunt Helen. “She wants to speak to both of us.”
Lenny nodded. "She texted me, too, earlier, asking for Randy and Sage's numbers."
"Randy?" Phoebe said in surprise. Sage she could understand. She probably wanted to consult her about her missing cat. Her aunt wanting to contact one of Lenny's old low-life friends was puzzling. "Why him?"
He shrugged as he tucked a still-sleeping Molly into her car seat and buckled her in. "Guess we'll find out soon."
They dropped his little sister off at the café with Rose, who was home from her honeymoon. Rose adored Molly and had virtually adopted her as her own.
“Now she’s married, Rose will probably have a child of her own soon,” Lenny said as they drove away. “When that happens, Molly and I’ll have to move out. Can’t afford a place quite yet.”
Phoebe sensed he had hopes that if their business took off, it might solve that problem. If her mother threw her out, maybe they could rent an apartment and share the costs.
Back at her place, as they entered the front door, Aunt Helen hurried over. “Oh good, you’re home.” Her aunt gave Phoebe a big hug and then did the same with Lenny. “She’s going to be here for at least three whole months, Lenny. Isn’t that wonderful?”
That was what Morgan had said. Lost in thought, Phoebe took off her jacket. Could he be glad to have her in town, too? Why had he acted so standoffish then? “I doubt Mom’s thrilled,” she said. “She and Morgan would probably prefer it if I spent the three months behind bars.”
Aunt Helen tapped her chin. “Such a silly child you are sometimes. Anyway, doesn’t matter what the others think. We’re going to celebrate. Your parents have gone into town to do some shopping and have a night out. If my nephew gets lucky, they might not be back until morning.”
Phoebe cringed. She didn’t want to contemplate her parents' love life, especially when hers was currently non-existent.
“Can you believe that judge sentencing you to three months of community service?” Aunt Helen asked. “And to suggest I needed counseling. The nerve! Tucker has bad taste in his golfing buddies. I've made tea for us. We have plans to talk over.”
“What plans?” Phoebe asked, dreading the answer.
Chapter 8
“Lenny mentioned that you’re going into the lost and found business,” Aunt Helen ushered Phoebe and her cousin into the living room. “I have a missing cat case for you.”
Lenny’s face lit up.
“Aunt Helen...” Phoebe began gently.
“This time my plan is foolproof,” her aunt interrupted.
Phoebe groaned and slumped into her father’s favorite armchair. “Didn’t you hear the judge? I’m not allowed within five feet of Tucker’s property without his permission. Do you want me to spend my three-month sentence behind bars?”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, that will be Randy.” Aunt Helen hurried off to answer the door.
Randy was joining them? That must be why Aunt Helen wanted his number. Why would Lenny agree to this?
As soon as her aunt was out of earshot, Phoebe turned on her cousin. “I can’t believe you’re going along with her on this new cat rescue plan and dragging Randy, of all people, into it. Didn’t you ditch him after high school when he started using?”
“He’s cool.” Lenny took the couch. “With Molly around, I told him to stay clean or he’d be out. He agreed. He attends regular AA meetings now. I trust him, Cuz. Besides...”
“Besides what?” Phoebe asked, horrified he’d taken up with Randy again. Lenny was still on probation.
He avoided eye contact as he murmured, “He was there when I needed him.”
Phoebe sat back, lost for words. Randy had been there after Johnny died, when she hadn’t.
The living room door opened. Lean and rangy, Lenny’s friend entered wearing torn and faded blue jeans, a stained red tee shirt and dirty runners. He looked disreputable and completely untrustworthy.
Phoebe observed him in silence, re-assessing her estimation. In her absence, he’d had Lenny’s back. That was admirable and deserved the benefit of the doubt.
Randy thumped down beside her cousin while Aunt Helen went to fetch the tea. He flashed Phoebe a cautious smile that revealed a gap in his teeth.
Aunt Helen returned carrying the tea tray and a plate of lemon cake slices.
As she poured, Grandfather Walter rolled in on his walker. He wore his favorite blue cardigan hanging open over a white shirt, gray slacks and worn loafers. She really had to get him a new pair of shoes. He took one look at those gathered and chuckled. “Guess I’m not invited to this little tea party.”
“Thought you were sleeping, Dad,” Aunt Helen said, “or we would have invited you. We’re, um, just celebrating Phoebe staying home for three months. Aren’t we, boys?”
“Yup,” Lenny said.
“Huh?” Randy said. “I thought we’re gonna talk about snatching the kitty back?”
Lenny kicked his shin.
“Ow! Why’d you do that for, man?”
“Dad,” Aunt Helen intervened, “he means we’re talking about how Phoebe and I tried to retrieve my cat, which resulted in the court case and now her having to stay here for months.” She took a deep breath, having run out of air.
From his disbelieving look, Grandfather Walter didn’t buy any of it. Lenny buried his face in his hands and Randy reached for a piece of cake.
Phoebe stared at her socked feet. She couldn’t believe her aunt’s words either, or the fact she was about to draw Phoebe into another of her crazy capers.
“Know something daughter?” Grandfather Walter said. “I thought with you being retired and cooped up in your room all day and my grandson poking inside people’s noses and throats, all my good genes got lost in translation. Glad that’s not the case.” He patted Aunt Helen’s head and rolled on out of the room, chuckling. “Don’t disappoint me now,” he added and shut the door behind him.
“Oh, goody,” Aunt Helen said and sent them a gleeful smile, “we have Daddy’s blessing.”
“I can’t believe you’ve fooled Morgan, the judge, and my mother all these years into thinking you’re a meek, law-abiding citizen,” Phoebe said.
“People believe what they want to believe, Phoebe. Rarely does any of it have to do with reality. Now, want to hear my fool-pr
oof plan?”
“No.” She sighed. “But I suppose if I don’t go along, you and these two clowns will carry on without me?”
“Who’re you calling a clown?” Randy asked, icing stuck to his upper lip and his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.
Phoebe’s glance shifted from Randy to Lenny. Did her cousin seriously consider this man his best friend? Randy was as delinquent as her cousin had been in his youth and obviously grew up learning fewer lessons.
“This time, I’m not going to rely on Tucker Harrington being asleep while we check out his place,” her aunt said.
Aunt Helen was determined to retrieve her cat. Phoebe couldn't really blame her, but why assume Tucker had the feline? “Mr. Harrington doesn’t strike me as the joking or malicious type, Aunt. Are you sure he has your cat?”
“Positive.”
“Why steal her?” Phoebe asked. “What’s his motive?”
“He’s just a mean-hearted devil. He won’t stop until he has reduced his victims to a quivering mass of fear.”
Randy swore, sounding scared. “Does he carry? Maybe those red-headed people on the other side of your place have a cat we can steal instead.”
“Shut up, Randy,” Lenny said. “We only want our cat, not some stranger’s.”
Phoebe sat back, aghast. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
“I’ve asked Tucker out to dinner,” Aunt Helen said.
“You’re going out with him?” The pieces of this puzzle began to fall into place. Especially if what Morgan said about Tucker having a crush on her aunt was true.
“Only for my baby’s sake,” her aunt replied in a pious tone. “I’ll keep Tucker busy for several hours, while you three scour every corner of that house, and find my cat!”
“Major plan, Aunt Helen,” Lenny said with approval.
“Yeah,” Randy agreed. “Maybe after this, we can go into business, like on a regular basis. There’re tons of old geezers what’s hiding good stuff. You could start a dating agency, while Lenny and I do the dirty.”
Lenny lightly smacked Randy on the side of his head. “My aunt’s not going to be pimped out so we can rob people. We’re only doing this to rescue our cat.”
“So, you’re wining and dining Tucker in the name of justice?” Phoebe didn’t believe a word of it. “You like him!”
Her aunt waved her away. “That’s neither here nor there. The point is, he has my Fur-Phoebe.”
There was still something missing. “If he likes you, too, why did he steal your pet and have you arrested?”
“He plays his cards close to his chest,” Aunt Helen said.
“Hate buggers like that,” Randy said. “Always lose to them at poker.” He jumped up and circled his fists through the air. “I’m in. Let’s get him. You go on that date and show him who can play poker, eh, Auntie?”
His three companions gazed up at him with varying degrees of discomfort.
“I mean, Ms. Helen.” Randy sat down, fists lowered.
“What about Morgan?” Phoebe asked, to interject a sense of rationality into this bizarre discussion. “He’s broken up with Janet, so he won’t be out on a hot date this time.”
“No, but Morgan’s going to Portland for a couple of days on business. He’s leaving tonight, so, now’s our best time to find my cat and bring her home.”
That was news to Phoebe. Why hadn’t Morgan mentioned he was leaving town when he drove her from the courthouse today? Her heart sank at the thought that even if he had broken up with Janet, he may not be into Phoebe.
IN THE EARLY EVENING, Aunt Helen said she spotted Morgan driving off. Shortly before eight, Phoebe, Lenny and Randy strolled out to the front porch to watch Aunt Helen drive over to pick up Tucker for their date.
They waited a half hour to be sure no one returned to the house, and then Phoebe and her team entered the Harrington home using the same broken window latch she and Aunt Helen used last time. Leaving that window unfixed was sheer carelessness. After they found the cat, Phoebe planned to offer Tucker her services as a security expert. He obviously had no clue about a working thief’s pattern. They often returned to the scene of a previous crime.
Phoebe wasn’t completely convinced yet that the cat was at the Harrington home, but she had promised to find her aunt’s pet. That meant a thorough search.
Once inside, wielding a flashlight like a pro, Randy swept Tucker Harrington’s study from end to end, but kept the light low so it wouldn’t be visible outside. Maybe it had been a good idea to bring him along. Three pairs of eyes were surely better than two.
“We’re going to check the basement first,” she said opening the study door a crack. Her theory was, if Tucker hadn’t bothered to secure the window after their last break in, he might not have moved the cat from its original hiding place.
Satisfied the hall was safe, she motioned to her partners-in-crime to follow. Randy pushed ahead, insisting on taking the lead. Lenny shrugged and followed his friend.
Phoebe took the rear as they headed down the stairs. A loud thunk, followed by a curse and crashing wood was the first indication of trouble.
She hurried past Lenny and discovered Randy sprawled amid fallen chairs and tables. “What’re you doing?”
“What the...” Randy finished with a string of curses.
“Shut up,” Lenny whispered. “You’ll get us caught.”
Randy picked himself off the floor, knocking over several chairs and a small card table. The sound echoed in the empty house. In the darkness, his flashlight twirled on the ground sending flashes in all directions, like a lit disco ball. With impotent fists, he swiped at imaginary enemies and kicked a chair out of his way.
Lenny and Phoebe waited for him to calm down. When Randy held his arms out as if to hold his demons at bay, Phoebe presumed he’d gained control of his temper. She picked up his dropped flashlight and scanned his mess.
“Who would pile chairs and tables at the bottom of the stairs?” Lenny asked.
The same question intrigued her. Who had barricaded the basement? Tucker?
“That mean old man what stole our cat, that’s who,” Randy said, as if reading her mind. “Hope your auntie’s sticking it to him.”
“You could be right.” Why else go to so much trouble to sabotage anyone entering the basement? “Come on. Let’s finish this.”
The basement had several rooms off a long corridor. Phoebe gestured for Lenny to take the rooms on the right. She handed Randy back his flashlight and snagged him by his collar as he made to follow his friend. They were here to find her aunt’s cat and she intended to make sure that light-fingered Randy took nothing else away when they left.
“You’re with me,” she said in a tone with which Randy was wise enough to not argue. “Lenny,” she whispered before her cousin entered an adjacent room, “if you find anything, give a shout.”
“Roger that,” he replied softly, with a thumbs up sign.
His lively face reminded her of all the times when they got into trouble as children, dragging poor Johnny along with them. It had been fun. In fact, the thought of going into business with Lenny gave her a warm fuzzy feeling and a sense of purpose. As if this was what she was meant to do with the rest of her life. Work with, and for the good of, her family.
With a lighter heart, she carried on checking the rooms with Randy. Most were empty storage cells that looked unused in years. With no windows, she felt safe turning on lights.
“Here, Fee...Bee,” she called softly. “Here kitty, kitty.”
“Come to Papa, pussy cat,” Randy called. “I’ve got a nice micey for you.”
They found a dusty wine cellar, a root cellar that smelled moldy, and yet another room packed with crates and boxes.
“No cat,” Randy said.
They’d found everything but a cat. A check down the corridor showed Lenny heading into another room.
The last one they checked was filled with antique furniture, some in good condition. Sh
e ran a finger down the back of a studded leather couch. Once the misunderstanding with the cat was cleared up, if she offered Tucker her services at half price, would he part with some of this stuff? She could already picture that couch and round coffee table in her new office. With no cat in sight, they headed back to the stairs and waited for Lenny to finish.
It had been a while since she’d heard him. “Lenny?”
“L...Lenny?” Randy called.
By his stutter, she guessed her cousin’s friend shared her uneasiness. Instincts at full alert, she felt for her gun only to remember she was off duty and unarmed. “Did you see which room he last entered?”
Randy shook his head.
“Wait here.” She headed down the dark corridor.
“Are you freakin’ crazy?” He dogged her footsteps.
They checked each room. No Lenny.
“They’ve got him.” His voice had risen several octaves. Randy spun around in the corridor trying to check in all directions. “They’ll come for us next.”
Phoebe drew him closer by his shirt collar until they were eye-to-eye. “There ... is ... no ... ‘they’,” she said, emphasizing each softly-spoken word. “We’re going to remain calm. Understood?”
He nodded.
There were beads of sweat on his forehead and he stank of fear. A wild animal could have stalked him by scent alone. Once his gaze contacted hers and stayed steady for five seconds, she released him. “Lenny might have gone upstairs. Or into one of the rooms we’ve already covered.”
“We’re not splitting up,” Randy said. “Scary movie rule.”
He stayed stuck to her side like old wallpaper. If he got any closer, she might have to kill him just to get some breathing space. He was right, however, on one point. They had better stay together. She wasn’t prepared to lose Randy, too. Whoever was playing games would not catch her making the same mistake twice. What she’d deemed a Mickey-Mouse operation has turned out to be as exhilarating as one of her missions.
Missing You Page 8
