“Right, sure.”
“They’ll figure it’s one of the stagers, or whatever you call them.”
“That is so dumb. First of all, real estate people don’t leave messes or steal dogs and neither do stagers.”
“And second of all, Jessica?”
“What?”
“You said first of all, what’s second of all?”
“Josh, stop being an idiot. Oh my God. They’re coming up to the front door.”
“Okay, move it, down the back stairs.”
“Don’t leave anything, stupid.”
“If you run into them, just say that we’re former neighbors and we had a key. They can’t prove that’s—”
“Get moving!”
There was a scramble and I took a chance to open the louvered door an inch and peek. I had to see if I could get a look at the so-called husband. I opened the closet door a crack and watched as Sierra raced in a panic along the upstairs hall and “Michael” actually passed her running. I couldn’t see his hair, but aside from that missing bit of data, he looked and sounded just like a male version of Sierra, now Jessica. They must have crept down the stairs, because the racket stopped, just as the doorbell started to ring.
That perhaps was good news for me. I rushed to the back of the house in time to see Sierra and “Michael” race into the backyard and vanish through the neighbor’s hedge. Of course, with those high hedges, no one was likely to see them.
The doorbell rang again. And now someone was banging on the door. Was that person yelling? Who would they be yelling at? I took my chances and hightailed it down the back stairs too. I nearly tripped over the stroller, abandoned in the kitchen by the door. Was that the baby? I had stopped thinking about that baby. I stopped just long enough to check the sleeping figure in the blankets. A large and lifelike doll. Figured. I flicked the lock and pulled the door closed after me. I hoped that no one spotted me leaving the empty house.
Now what?
I zipped through the narrow side yard in time to spot Sierra and Michael heading up the hill. What to do? Follow them? Or wait and see if anyone else approached Gram’s house? On the sidewalk, I turned back. No one was standing at the entrance to the late Mr. Himmelfarb’s house. No one was ringing the doorbell or banging. Perhaps they had gone around to the back? I could have taken my chances, but I had no desire to be caught in back without any witnesses.
Uncle Mick would have said, “Better a bird in the hand,” by which he would have meant a pair of Georgian candlesticks. I would have to settle for two new suspects.
Fine. That meant forgetting about the off chance that someone tried to get into Gram’s house. After all, Tyler and Zoya along with Gus and the boys could take care of things. I darted back into the side yard, ducked down behind the garbage cans and took a few seconds to stuff the maid’s dress in one of my collection of plastic bags, slipped into the baggy navy cotton shorts, the T-shirt with the badly drawn Golden Gate Bridge and the A’s cap with the yellow brim. I tucked my hair under and slipped on my oversized sunglasses. My purchases were paying off. Back on the sidewalk, I looked both ways and spotted Michael and Sierra quite far up the hill. I hoofed it up the steep slope after the two of them. I thought my lungs would explode after running to get within clear sight of them. I was glad I’d changed. It made more sense to be running in shorts than in my maid’s uniform. When I got within hearing distance, I slowed and caught my breath. They had no interest in anyone else but themselves. They were stomping along, sulking and shouting at each other.
I realized that I was in prime Hammett mode, doing a variant of the Pinkerton’s specialty of shadowing a suspect. Of course. I wasn’t sure what Sierra and Michael were up to, but they were up to something. Sierra hadn’t even been on my list although it was obvious now that she should have been.
For sure, as an unfashionable pedestrian, I wouldn’t even register on their self-absorbed brains. I was counting on it. As the hill flattened out—thank heavens—I found it easier to keep up. How could anyone live in this city with all these hills? I was ready to crash, but then I did seem to be the only person actually running up that slope in desert boots. If Smiley had been there, he probably would have been unable to resist saying that if Dashiell Hammett could work in the damp, foggy city while coping with lung disease, then I could climb this hill. In the middle of a real case, Hammett sometimes didn’t know what was going on, and now there I was with no clue either.
Still I pulled myself together and did my best to keep up without giving myself away. I didn’t have much to worry about. The two of them didn’t turn around. They were pretty lousy criminals actually. No sense of self-preservation. Uncle Seamus would have set them straight with one of his rules, say, for instance, only a jackass draws attention to himself. I added “or herself” to reflect Sierra’s contribution.
As if they were thinking with a single brain, the squabbling pair turned abruptly into Down by the Bean, one of many local coffee shops that promised their own roasted beans.
I soon followed them in without seeming to notice them at all. They took their organic Fair Trade pour-overs to a small table in the window and continued to snarl at each other.
I got myself an Americano to go from the good-looking guy behind the counter and slumped at a nearby table, pulling out the new smart phone and pretending to be immersed in the world of social media. I was glad I remembered my Facebook password: PUGLIFE. I was really annoyed that Tyler refused to have a Facebook account or I could have contacted him. I scrolled randomly through my timeline, “liking” and “sharing” mindlessly. I knew this would come back to haunt me as The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster wasn’t exactly my kind of group, nor was the article on Optimizing Your Fit-Bit Workout.
A Facebook message bubble from Lance popped up.
Are you having some sort of psychotic break?
LOL
I lied nonchalantly.
Just bored waiting for Tyler to get ready.
I didn’t need Lance freaking and calling out the cavalry.
Lance replied with an engagement ring emoji and eighteen question marks.
I replied:
Oops, used all my data. Gotta run.
I went up to the barista, handed him my phone and lowered my voice. “I’m just visiting the city and I’d love to get a picture of your coffee house. It’s so unique. I love everything about it. Would you mind taking the shot?” It wasn’t such an unusual request apparently. I pulled my baseball cap low on my forehead and hammed it up a bit with a duck face and peace signs making sure my two new suspects were in the background on most of the shots.
When he handed the phone back to me, I checked the shots. I looked like a first-class dweeb but my targets were nice and clear. Unfortunately, they were also getting up to leave. Didn’t anybody linger over coffee anymore?
I thanked my barista and said I had to rush to meet a friend. He said, “Come again. Anytime.”
I headed out, sloshing my Americano and hustled after them, now back on the sidewalk and heading somewhere even farther up. Unlike them, I turned around regularly to make sure no one was following me. The third time I turned around, I thought I saw a flash of red hair and something else. Something fawn? Was that possible? Was I hallucinating out of stress?
Someone was following me and I was following someone else. Whatever I turned my attention to, I didn’t want to lose track of the other thing that needed watching—in this case, it was the redheaded man or Sierra and Michael. Tricky situation. I decided to keep on their trail while keeping my own back and checking for the flash of ginger again. It was not the first creepy thing that had happened, and part of the creepiness was that I’d read that Hammett had also had red hair, back in the early days. I shivered and kept going, doing my best to look casual and inconspicuous while running up a hill with a cup of coffee.
I had to do a b
it of fancy footwork when my targets turned and entered a multiunit dwelling. It was a snazzy-looking place with an Art Deco vibe. I kept going without appearing to notice them. I circled round when they didn’t come right out. The foyer was empty. They were gone.
I stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the windows, hoping I’d figure out where they had gone. Nothing happened. But there was that little flash of red hair, near an alley I’d just passed.
It was a good bet they wouldn’t be emerging within a minute or two. I whirled and ran to the alley. Sure enough, there was my trembling quarry, startlingly blue eyes wide and terrified, mouth open in protest, hands held up in defense mode. I grabbed him by the collar and screamed in his face.
“Uncle Kev, don’t make me kill you!”
A small emotional pug told me what she thought of my outburst. Yap yap yap!
As for Uncle Kev, I swear he had tears in his eyes. Of course, all the Kelly men can turn the waterworks on anytime they need to.
“Aw, Jordie, don’t be mad.”
“Don’t be mad? Don’t be mad? Are you insane? What are you doing with Asta?”
“Who?”
Nothing ever changes with Uncle Kev. “Asta. The little pug.”
“Well, I saved him, didn’t I? You should be happy, Jordie.”
“Her, you saved her.”
“Right, whatever.”
“And by ‘saved,’ you mean you stole her from Tyler’s grandmother’s house?”
“No. I stole him from the people who must have stolen him from the grandmother’s house. They are not nice. They left him alone in that empty house. It was no way to treat a dog.”
Asta agreed, completely. She spun around and looked adoringly at Uncle Kev.
I needed information on the spot. I could deal with Uncle Kev’s other issues, such as Asta’s gender, later. “And who are they?”
He blinked, his startlingly blue eyes even more vacant than usual.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who talks to her all the time but she’s not your friend. They spied on you. And I overheard them say something about ‘needing to get rid of you.’ That’s why I was watching them. I was careful. How’d you find me, Jordie?”
Just blind luck actually and, of course, the clue of the Jolly Rancher wrappers. “Never mind. Did they see you?”
“No way, Jordie.”
Maybe accurate, maybe not. I decided to go with it.
“Come on, we’ll be a team. I see you have a backpack. Is there anything in it to disguise yourself with?”
“I got a hoodie I could put on. I got two actually. A blue and green. What color do you want, Jordie? And this bandanna for the pooch.” I knew better than to ask Uncle Kev why he’d bought any of it. Or more likely lifted as the tags were still on. I could always make a donation to a charity later on to soothe my conscience.
When we stepped out of the narrow space between two buildings, we looked different enough that I thought we just might fool the two self-absorbed crooks we were looking for. If we could track them down, they wouldn’t recognize me as the woman from the coffee shop.
I tied the little bandanna on Asta. Jaunty. I picked her up, not sure why, but I was awfully glad we had the cuddly, snuffling little creature. We headed into the apartment building pretending to chat in a friendly fashion. An attractive dark-haired woman with a teacup poodle in her arms was just emerging. I gave her my best smile from the Kelly family collection of “fool some of the people some of the time.”
“What an adorable little poochie!” I squealed. Uncle Kev said, “A beauty.”
Her hand went to her hair and her eyes were drawn to Kev’s ridiculously blue ones. As they stared at each other, I tried to avoid rolling mine. I said, “We were trying to find a couple of people who just came into this building. I don’t know their names, but she dropped this cell phone.” I pulled my own phone out of my orange handbag, still disguised in a plastic sac.
“What’s her name?” The woman didn’t turn her gaze to me.
Kev beamed at her. Please, don’t open your mouth and ruin everything, Kev, I thought.
“I don’t know but she’s about this high . . .”
She turned to note that.
“And pretty with honey-brown hair in a ponytail and some nice highlights. She looks quite athletic and—”
“I don’t know their names. I’m new here.”
Kev said, “Too bad, eh.”
I shot him a shut-up glance.
She said, “But I think they’re on the third floor.”
“Great. I’ll call up to them.” I turned to the panel with the codes for each apartment. I considering ringing bell by bell until someone let me in. Of course, my plan wasn’t going to work with a witness.
The board had a list of occupants’ names. None of them looked familiar. Meanwhile Kev made small—and I do mean small—talk with his new friend and her dog. Asta seemed quite happy to be part of it. “Oh well,” I said. “They’re not answering. Maybe they went looking for the wallet. Is there another exit?”
“Well, garage and the back door. Both are actually on the side street.” She pointed.
“We should just get a coffee and then try later. Maybe the doggies would like a stroll together,” Kev said. She was quite mesmerized by him or she might have noticed that I already had a coffee.
She said, “I can tell them if I see them.”
Before Kev could agree, I said, “You know, it would be fun to surprise her. She must be very worried about it. What if we let you know when we find them, if you want to be in on the surprise? When are you going home again?”
She glanced at her watch. “Oh. I’m supposed to meet my friend. Here, let me give you my number.” She wrote it quickly on a piece of paper and handed it to Kev.
We both smiled and waved good-bye to her. Kev took great care with the number. That was fine. We might actually need it, I thought.
I pointed at one of the names I’d written down. “Kev, I’ve seen this somewhere.”
Kev was still watching his new flame hurry away.
“Kev!”
“I have to go back to Tyler’s grandmother’s house. I have to figure out a way. Can you watch the place and let me know if they leave?”
“Course I can, Jordie.”
Right.
“And can you stay in touch with me?”
“Say what?”
“Can you call me if you see them come out? Can you follow them?”
“Follow them?”
I rubbed my temple. “That’s correct. Like you were following me. Do you have a phone?”
He beamed and dug in his pocket. “Sure, I have a burner.”
I put his number into my new phone and gave him mine. I watched him enter it in his burner. The next minute, he keyed in the number of his new friend. Oh well, she was an adult and I had more than enough people and dogs already to worry about.
“Can I trust you, Uncle Kev?” I raised my hand to hail a cab and was pleased to see one pull in almost immediately. I hopped in with Asta.
“Sure you can, Jordie. Why wouldn’t you be able to?”
Such a long list.
As the taxi pulled away, Uncle Kev said, “That reminds me. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“That will have to be for later,” I shouted as the cab shot into the traffic.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
No one is who you think they are.
—The Kelly Rules
GRAM’S PLACE WASN’T far, maybe a mile down the hill, but timing is everything.
In the cab, I asked myself, belatedly, why Kev would have been in San Francisco and following me. How could he afford a ticket? Who had paid for it? What had he wanted to say? I considered asking the driver to turn around so I could ask him, but by then we’d arrived.
Tyler answered the bell and, after a stunned glance at my “sporty” new outfit, wrapped us in a bear hug. Gram and Zoya responded to my “hello” from the sunroom. Asta did a happy little dance to see Zoya and greeted Gram cordially. She gave Tyler suspicious bug-eyed looks. Maybe because of the hug.
Tyler said, “What is going on? I’ve been half crazy with worry. There was a shooting at the hotel. No one knew where you were. I’ve been back to the hotel twice and I still can’t get to our suite.”
I leaned into the latest hug and let myself just go limp. “You won’t believe the stuff that’s happened.”
This time he didn’t let me go. I was afraid my ribs would crack. But in a good way.
“I thought something happened to you.”
“I can’t breathe.”
He loosened his hold on me but not much. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I sent you a picture from the hotel, before the shooting started.”
“Yeah. I got that. That scared me too. Were those the guys who did the shooting?”
“Yes. They were after me. I sent that photo to Officer Martinez as well.”
“She told me. She also filled me in on some of what happened. They’ll want to talk to you. The cops don’t know if you’re dead or alive. And like I said, no call.”
“I lost my phone somewhere in the hotel when I was trying to get away. I was in a panic. I picked up this little, um, inexpensive phone when I got away from the hotel. I couldn’t remember your new number.”
“I was going crazy. I’ve been to the police and to the hotel and back here and—”
“I knew you’d be worried and . . . a lot has happened, including finding Asta.”
“And where were you hiding, you wicked little creature?” Gram said.
Zoya gasped. “Not vicked!”
I said, “Right, Zoya, not wicked at all, abducted.”
Tyler said, “What?”
Gram said, “Oh, come now.”
Zoya sniffed. “I knew. Not vicked. Kidnepped.”
I said, “She was being held not far from here.”
The Hammett Hex Page 22
