The Hammett Hex

by Victoria Abbott

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  You do what you gotta do.

  —The Kelly Rules

  THE WHIMPER WAS good news. Asta wasn’t too far away. Although by now it was dark, I kept trying and peering around from the roomy back deck into the surrounding garden. There was no way I could go into that dark, sloping backyard with two violent perpetrators on the loose. Especially two who hadn’t gotten what they wanted in this house—which I was now in charge of keeping safe, as Officer Martinez had been called to another incident. For all I knew, those perps were out there, holding that dog, waiting for a chance to burst in again. On the other hand, there was no way I could leave a terrified and spoiled little dog alone in the dark. I thought of Walter and how upset he’d be to be locked out of the house. And if these creeps had Asta, what a bargaining chip she’d be!

  What to do?

  I headed back to the front of the house. I peered out. Sure enough, the police officer was still parked there. Great to be a cop, I thought, parking wherever. Membership does have its privileges.

  I looked up and down and behind the bushes. I could see no reason not to knock on the police officer’s car window and ask him or her to see if the dog was okay. Or requesting that he accompany me and keep me safe if dog rescue was not in the cards.

  Uh-oh! Across the street, I could see Sierra waving frantically. I gave her an apologetic nod and pointed to the police car, parked under the streetlight. She stopped, puzzled, waited.

  I knocked on the window and the middle-aged police officer lowered the window. Darn. He was a big guy, pink-faced and pudgy, and looked bored to the point of tears. He wore his cap low on his forehead, a style I always find irritating. I worried he might not feel he had anything to prove by rescuing a dog and earning my undying admiration. Through the window I could see Sierra dodging traffic to cross the street. I just didn’t feel up to dealing with her upscale cheerfulness right at that moment.

  She came right up and gave me a huge hug. “Are you all right? We saw the police, we didn’t know what to think. Then the ambulance and—” She stopped talking and wiped her cheeks. To my astonishment there were tear tracks. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what to do,” she wailed.

  “Not your fault at all,” I said. “We are all right.”

  “But someone went in the ambulance.”

  “Zoya, the housekeeper. She’ll be okay. Just a precaution.” While we were talking, I kept an eye on the front door. We were feet away from it, but it had been the kind of day, in fact the kind of trip, where anything, no matter how bizarre, could happen.

  She shuddered. “Oh good, I mean it’s such a nice neighborhood, who would think that—”

  “Break-in,” I said, not wishing to give her details and send her into hysterics. “They’re gone now. But thank you so much for spotting them and calling me.”

  “Of course, did the police arrest them?”

  I touched her arm. “No, but I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you.”

  She turned pale and her hand shot to her throat. “But I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You saved the day, but they’ll need a description. Sorry, Sierra, I need to talk to this officer. Tyler’s grandmother’s little dog has escaped. She’s really upset. We all are.” Not exactly true, but I needed Sierra to give me space to talk to the officer.

  “Oh no! I didn’t know there was a dog. Really? Where do you think it went? This is a busy street.”

  “Just one moment, Sierra.”

  “But I was at the window, because I was so worried, and I would have seen if a dog came out. How would it get out the door?”

  “Maybe when the paramedics came? Or the police.”

  “But I think I would have noticed a dog.”

  “I’m just going to ask the officer to help me look in the back. Gram will be so stressed if we don’t find Asta.”

  “In the back of what?”

  “The house. She might have run down there and gotten too scared to come out. Maybe you could help, Officer.”

  He cleared his throat and held the wheel with his pudgy fingers. He did not make eye contact. “Can’t leave the vehicle except to go into the house in an emergency.”

  “Well, it is a type of emergency. Missing dog.”

  “Need more than that. My captain is not a fan of dogs.”

  “Really? How is that even possible?” Sierra said. She did outrage well.

  I said, “Well then, can you come into the house as it is an emergency.”

  “Good try,” he said.

  I couldn’t believe this guy. No wonder he had that sloppy beer belly if he wouldn’t get out of the car under these circumstances. “No really, if you come in, give me a chance to check on Gram, um, Mrs. Huddy, and then you could legitimately stand in the kitchen by the back door, while I check the back door. You could call for backup if something happened to me.”

  “Your friend could keep an eye on you.”

  Seriously? In a way I was glad that Tyler wasn’t there. His curly blond hair might have caught fire.

  “What? Oh no, I can’t go in there.” Sierra’s eyes widened in a crazy horse eyes kind of way. “Not after what happened.”

  “But you don’t know what happened.”

  “You said violent! You said traumatized! I have a baby to take care of.”

  “Where is the baby?” I couldn’t believe she’d have left little Harry alone for a minute, let alone for this bizarre conversation.

  “He’s finally sleeping. He’s with my husband.”

  “Your husband? Maybe he could come with me and—”

  “Oh, he’d love that. He adores dangerous situations, but he was up all night with Harry and they’re asleep together. I just can’t wake him up.”

  Thanks a bunch, I thought. “Not that dangerous. It’s a dog in the backyard. I just need someone to keep an eye on Gram while I look.”

  “Well,” she said, “maybe when he wakes up. I’ll send him over. His name is Michael. His code phrase could be Pug.”

  “What?”

  “You know, so you’ll be sure he’s really Michael and it’s all right to let him in.”

  “How about ‘Joe sent me,’” said the cop with a snort.

  “But who’s Joe?” Sierra’s pretty forehead creased in puzzlement.

  The cop bit his lower lip. I may have done the same. She meant well and it wouldn’t have been nice to laugh.

  Uncle Mick used to say about Kev, “Can’t help being the way he is,” and that seemed to apply to Sierra too. Like Kev, she had some excellent qualities. Brains and bravery weren’t among them, but hey.

  “Thanks, Sierra. I’ll watch for him.”

  “But only when he’s awake.”

  “Right.”

  I turned to the cop. “Again, how about joining me inside and just keeping an eye while I check the back?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry.”

  Really really really not sorry. I found myself shaking with anger, not that I wanted to stand next to this miserable sweaty excuse for a police officer.

  At that moment, my cell phone vibrated. Smiley!

  “Great news,” he said. “We’re on our way back. Zoya was seen right away and she seems to be all right, although you’d never know it to look at the expression on her face. We’ll take a cab to Gram’s and see you soon.”

  “That’s great news. The bad news is that Asta, the little pug, has vanished. She’s somewhere in back of the house—”

  “Jordan, do not go looking for her by yourself. Who knows where those guys are. Do you hear me? Don’t—”

  “Give me some credit. I wasn’t going to take the chance. Officer Martinez had to take a call. I asked the local police officer to help but that was a no go.”

  “That’s second-rate. Never mind. I’ll do it. Just take care of Gram an
d I’ll be there soon. Take no chances. Okay?”

  I muttered something about being glad Zoya was all right, and disconnected. I supposed there was no reason that poor little Asta couldn’t wait ten more minutes.

  “Thanks, Sierra,” I said. “I’m going in to check on Tyler’s grandmother now. I’ve been out here a bit too long.”

  She gripped my arm. “Wait! Don’t go in until he’s back.”

  I patiently explained that I had been alone in the house and that there were no intruders there. “I just came out to look for the dog.”

  “What if they have him?”

  “You mean the dog? It’s a her.”

  Her voice rose. “What if they hold a gun to its head and force you to open the safe?”

  “There’s no safe.”

  “Oh. Shouldn’t the officer go with you just to see if it’s safe to go back in?”

  “No,” the officer said. “She’s been out here for five minutes and no one has come or gone.”

  “My fiancé is also a police officer,” I said. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. We’ll look together.”

  “Should I still send Michael over when he wakes up? I’d like you to meet him.”

  If he was anything like her, this stressful day wouldn’t be the right time to get to know Michael. “We’ll be okay.”

  She smiled and I could see the relief on her face. “Okay. We’ll wait to hear. And really, anything we can do. Anything at all.”

  Right. I knew she meant it, useless as the sentiment was.

  Time to reassure Gram. Once through the door, I stopped. What was that noise? I shook it off, but I was sure I heard the thump of footsteps.

  “Who’s there?” I called, one of the dopiest lines any one of us ever utters. “Gram?”

  Gram’s voice fluttered down the staircase. I could see her, swaying at the top. “Someone came up the back stairs. I was hoping it was you.”

  Without thinking, I raced toward the front of the house. I opened the door and shouted, “There’s an intruder in the house! He got back in!”

  I heard a clatter on the floor and the sounds of things being knocked over in the dark kitchen. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to run toward it, but I was expecting to be followed by the armed officer. As I flicked on the light, a dark figure shot out the back door and into the gloom. In the distant gloom I heard a small yap.

  There was no sign of that useless cop, But I heard Asta, not too far away.

  The garden door leading from the kitchen to the small deck stood open; broken glass lay on the floor surrounding it. It would not be a good idea for Asta to come through that. I rushed to the deck to make sure that didn’t happen and picked up the small, shivering pooch before she stepped on the glass. A thrashing and crashing in the hedge separating the two properties told me that our burglar was not all that far away.

  “You followed the burglar, didn’t you, silly pooch? Not a good idea, but you’re home now.”

  Inside, I shouted, “Please get into bed, Gram. I’m getting the police and Tyler’s on his way.”

  Clutching the shivering dog, I dashed to the front of the house. The police car was gone.

  I pulled myself together enough to say, “Good news,” to Gram. She was back in the guest bed brandishing her cane with the metal bird’s head handle.

  “So we’re not out of the woods yet,” she said.

  “Nope. One of the intruders”—well, who else would it have been?—“broke in through the garden door in the kitchen. There’s glass everywhere. I found little Asta outside.”

  Gram beckoned and I deposited Asta beside her. She snuggled up immediately and gave me an irritated bark, on general principles. “Oh, Asta, when will you learn gratitude?”

  I said, “Tyler should be back soon.”

  Of course, the phone was still disabled, but I pulled out my cell phone and tapped 911. I said, “We had a violent break-in here earlier and one of the intruders has just come back and broken in through the kitchen door. You’ll have a record of that. We have an elderly woman who has been traumatized and now the officer guarding the house has just driven away. Officer Martinez was here and she was called away. She needs to get back here and I mean now.”

  “Calm down, ma’am.”

  I really hate it when someone tells me to calm down. “There’s nothing to be calm about. That intruder may come back again the minute he realizes that we are helpless here. You’d better get another car here as soon as possible. What? Fine.” I went through the tedious process of repeating everything that had occurred in Gram’s house that afternoon and evening. “Yes. Ambulance, police officers, we had the whole enchilada. What? Oh, no, probably just police. We are actually not in need of medical help. One person went to the hospital earlier but we’re fine. No, it is an emergency because we don’t know where the perpetrators are and we are alone here with the back door broken and two dangerous men on the loose. Are they? Are they really on the way?”

  Gram said, “I hear sirens. That’s a good thing.”

  “Fine, I will stay on the phone until they get here. Can you tell me why the other officer left us here alone?”

  “What? Of course there was an officer here. He was parked right outside the house. I told you that. He was worse than useless because he actually wasted time, but he was there and I was not the only person to have seen him. Oh right, of course you can’t give me that information.”

  When I hung up, Gram said, “Jordan. I’m only getting half of this. What is that about?”

  “The cop I talked to in the car outside. The dispatcher couldn’t hide her surprise that there was anyone outside. She wouldn’t be allowed to tell me that and she tried to cover, but it seemed obvious to me. Something fishy is going on with that guy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  No one sees past a uniform.

  —The Kelly Rules

  “THAT’S JUST CRAZY.”

  I thought hard. “He was in an unmarked car. That happens. He had on a uniform, but you know what? He didn’t look like a cop. He was flabby and uninterested.”

  The sirens were getting closer. A good thing, assuming that they belonged to real police officers, something that wasn’t one hundred percent certain.

  We heard a racket at the front door and the sound of “Police!”

  Gram handed me her cane with the metal bird’s head. I went downstairs armed. As they say, “Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.”

  Officer Martinez was back with her partner, a pale Scandinavian type called Nordstrom. I did mention the “officer” who’d been parked outside supposedly to watch the house but who did nothing and who, the dispatcher had let slip, might not have been assigned. They exchanged glances but neither one of them offered an opinion about what that had been about.

  “Where’s the door?” he said.

  “Follow me,” I said.

  “I’ll go first,” he said. “My partner will keep an eye here.”

  “Maybe Officer Martinez can guard the elderly lady on the second floor,” I said. “She’s pretty feisty. Be careful.”

  Martinez chuckled as she climbed the stairs.

  In the kitchen Nordstrom took note of the broken glass and heard my description of the earlier events. He got on his radio.

  He stepped outside and shone his flashlight around.

  “What did he look like?”

  “I didn’t see the guy who broke in.”

  He stepped back in and pointed upstairs. “Did she?”

  “I don’t think so. I saw this disaster and Mrs. Huddy heard the sound of someone breaking into the house. Lucky I came back in when I did. This was the second time there’s been a home invasion here in a few hours, as Officer Martinez may have mentioned.”

  “She did.”

  “Was there or was there not a police officer
stationed outside the house?”

  He shrugged and stepped outside again.

  I said, “Well, I think you need a . . . search team.” I wasn’t sure if that was a phrase used. He didn’t respond but made his way around the back garden, talking into his radio. I headed back upstairs. At least I could be of some use to Gram.

  She was back in bed in the front room. Asta was sitting on the end of that bed. She jumped up and wagged her stumpy little tail when I entered the room. Here at least I was appreciated.

  Officer Martinez had just finished taking the information. Gram seemed to like her and so did Asta.

  “So, no one saw anything at all?” she said.

  I said, “Hardly that. I saw broken glass all over the kitchen floor, and Mrs. Huddy heard the intruder break the glass and start up the back stairs. And as you know perfectly well, we had been subjected to a violent break-in while she was in bed earlier today, just a few hours ago. Broken glass, blood, the works.”

  She glanced around and nodded.

  I bit my tongue before I went on about how dangerous it could have been. How we could have been badly injured or killed.

  Gram said, “But we’re all okay.”

  “Right.”

  “We fought them off. We acted decisively. That’s why I’ve never been better. I hate feeling old and useless.”

  So this was definitely weird. It wasn’t that I wanted her to feel afraid and have some traumatized reaction; it’s just that it had been very dangerous and gleefulness didn’t seem like the right response. Whatever. I decided it was better for her mental health. My own state of mind was a bit more wobbly.

  What the bleep was going on?

  There was so much to consider, including things that I hadn’t taken so seriously before the home invasion: Being pushed from the cable car. And the Prius that had almost knocked Smiley and me over on our way home from dinner the other night might not have been just a random drunk driver. Speaking of dinner, there was also the bug under the table at Magari. Those all had to be connected.