Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries)

by Camilla Chafer

  "Maybe they know something."

  "Awesome," said Lily. "We know nothing."

  "Exactly."

  "Where does she live?"

  "I checked the phone book and there are three T. Hendersons in Montgomery."

  “Did Hot and Hotter asker you to do this?” she asked.

  “Which is which?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Guess not, and no, they didn’t. Maddox wants me off the case.”

  “Huh,” said Lily. “Do we still like him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “There’s nothing wrong in calling to pay condolences to Tallulah’s family,” decided Lily. “It was sad.”

  “It was,” I agreed. “It was really sad.”

  "Let's call them first." Lily got her phone book and flipped through to the Hendersons, checking them off with a Sharpie. She dialed the first number and asked to speak to Miss Henderson, waited for the answer, said goodbye and put the phone down. "Miss is a Mr. Thomas Henderson," she explained.

  The third call was the charm. "That was Tanya's sister. She told me her sister had just died and she was sorting through her things."

  "Let's go over and talk to the sister. Maybe they were close?"

  "Okay, and we have to go to my sister's baby shower afterwards." I looked down at my work clothes. I still passed as smart and neat. Clean, too. And, to my relief, I was hangover free.

  Lily saw me looking at her sweater and jeans and took the hint. "I'll change."

  Tanya Henderson lived in an apartment block on South Street in Frederickstown. The area, named after Montgomery's first mayor, was a melting pot of small, one-family homes, apartment buildings and independent businesses. It sprang up to house the overflow of a population boom in Montgomery more than forty years ago, but had quickly gone to the dogs. Its biggest problem was no one thought ahead far enough to connect the public transport system to the area. By the time they did, the commuters had moved out and the area had fallen to ghettoization.

  It wasn't the nicest of neighborhoods, being mainly poor. The whole South Street block looked like it needed a coat of paint and landscaping around the communal gardens, but it wasn't the worst neighborhood either. My car—which had mysteriously appeared in my parking space sometime during the night—would most certainly be here when I got back, so I parked on the street and we walked over to Tanya Henderson’s apartment.

  "So, what are we looking for?" asked Lily. She pulled her sunglasses down her nose and looked at me expectantly, with the air of someone who trusted someone else to know what she was doing.

  "I don't know yet."

  "What are we going to say?"

  "We'll say we're friends from the club and we heard what happened."

  "Plausible," agreed Lily.

  I located the button for 3B and pressed it. A moment later, a woman's voice called, "Hello?"

  "Hi! This is... Jennifer and... Alison,” I said, picking the first names to pop into my head. If the cops asked later, not that I could fathom why they would, she wouldn’t have our real names. I was probably over thinking it, I decided. “We're friends of Tanya's."

  "Come up," said the voice and the door buzzed open. The elevator was out of order so we climbed the two flights to the third floor. Someone had tried to jazz up the communal space outside Tanya's apartment with a little console table that held a plastic plant with a framed print above. A woman waited in the doorway for us. She was in her thirties and had waist-length, brown hair.

  "I'm Tara, Tanya's sister. You heard what happened?" she said without preamble.

  I nodded. "We're very sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you. She was only twenty-eight, you know. Too young. What can I do for you?"

  "I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. About Tanya. We were pretty concerned about her."

  "Me too. Listen, come on in. We can talk while I sort through her things. The landlord wants everything out by the weekend. Harsh, right?"

  "Totally."

  Tanya Henderson had tried to make the best of her apartment. It was neat, although a little on the sparse side. She attempted to make it more cheerful by using bright throws and pillows. A modern art print had been tacked above a fake fireplace. I couldn't connect it with the red head in the tight leather dress. I couldn't picture Martin Dean in it either. It was a far cry from Bedford Hills and the grand piano.

  "Did Tanya live here alone?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Thought you knew that?"

  "I did. I just thought she'd been seeing someone. Thought maybe he'd moved in."

  "She didn't mention it to me. And she wasn't real sharey, you know, about the guys she was seeing."

  "She was seeing more than one?"

  "Well, you know about the clubs she went to." Tara moved around us to lift a carton off the small two-seat sofa and invited us to sit.

  "You mean Flames?" said Lily. "We go there."

  "Then you know monogamy isn't on top of the list. Tanya had a guy who took her there. I think he used to help her out with money and he was into all that weird shit. Sorry. I'm sure it's not weird to you at all, but the public spanking stuff? I just don't get it."

  "No offense taken. Do you know this guy?"

  "I think his name is Dean something? Like two first names, maybe. Tanya mentioned him a couple of times when he sent her presents. She seemed to really like him. I saw him once, dropping her off, but I never met him. Not the best looking guy, if you know what I mean. Plus, he was too old for her."

  "Was she dating him for the money? He was loaded, right?" I watched her.

  "Yeah," said Tara, with a shrug. "He was, but Tanya, she wasn't a gold-digger, ya know. She didn't ask him for stuff. She didn't have a lot either, but she always worked when she could and paid her own way. This Dean treated her nicely. She said he was respectful."

  "Did she ever bring him home to meet your folks?"

  "Hell, no. I don't think they had a relationship like that, anyway. Tanya never said he was her boyfriend; and he had twenty years on her, at least. Maybe even thirty! She said he worked a lot and liked her companionship, that she was... What was it? Oh yeah—uncomplicated, whatever the hell that means." Tara shrugged and pulled a couple of paperbacks off a small side table, tossing them into a box marked “charity.” "She used to go over to his place, too. Said it was really nice. Big. He had a thing for vintage cars and took her out in one once. She said it was amazing. She felt like a Hollywood screen siren in it."

  "He's missing," I said.

  "No shit? You think he was the bastard who did this to my sister?" Tara didn’t question how we knew that, much to my relief.

  "No, like you said, I think he really liked her."

  "Then he got her mixed up in something?"

  "Maybe."

  "I told Tanya, seeing older guys was fine. Plenty of women do that, but these guys, they don't marry women who go to clubs like Flames. They get them in trouble and split. Again, no offense intended. But she said she wasn't after him for a ring."

  "Had they known each other very long?" Lily asked.

  Tara looked up at her. "A couple of years. I don't know where they met."

  "Did Tanya seem worried about anything before she..." I paused. It seemed too soon to say the word “died.”

  "Before she was killed?" Tara asked bluntly. She was putting on a tough act, but nothing could disguise the red rims around her eyes. "Now I think about it, yeah, she did seem worried about something. She was real edgy."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Jumpy. Always looking over her shoulder. She mentioned taking a vacation too. Even bought a guidebook."

  "That wasn't like her?"

  "No, she always wanted to travel, we both did, but never have. This guy of hers, the one you say is missing, he bought her tickets to Paris. They were going to go there at the end of the month."

  "Sounds romantic."

  "Sure does. She said she might never come back." Tara stopped folding the throw s
he pulled off the floor and placed it in the carton. "Hey, do you want any of her stuff? Most of it is going to Goodwill."

  "No, but thanks for the offer." I stood, and Lily followed. "Oh, there was one more thing. Tanya mentioned she'd been keeping something for Dean. Do you know what it was? It might have been a key or something?"

  "No, she didn't say anything about a key, but she didn't tell me everything."

  "No problem. Thanks for your time."

  "Tanya's funeral is next week. It'll be in the newspaper. You're welcome to come by."

  "Thanks."

  Tara saw us to the door, and just as we were leaving, she said. "The tickets for Paris are here and they're in Tanya's name. What do you think I should do with them? Should I wait and give them to her guy?"

  "No," I said. "Use them." Martin Dean would never need them.

  "I can't imagine dating someone twenty years older than me," I said to Lily as we walked down the stairs.

  "I did. Once."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. He was lovely. Very nice, mature, good in the sack."

  "You never said. What went wrong?"

  "I kept imagining ten, twenty years down the road, I would still be pretty young and he would just be getting fatter and asking me to get his slippers."

  "It might not have been like that."

  "I know, but the fear was there anyway. Plus, I didn't want to look like a gold-digger."

  "I would never think you were a gold-digger."

  "Everyone else would. If he was poor, but smart and handsome, people wouldn't care. Throw rich in and everyone's got an opinion."

  I thought that was a good point, even though Lily’s parents were loaded. "You think Tanya really liked Dean?"

  "She was planning to go away with him. Plus, look at where she lived. She wasn't milking him for money or jewelry and stuff like that." The door banged shut behind us and we moved to the curb.

  "Maybe it was the spanking."

  "You are so fixated on the spanking. Did Maddox spank you in the club?"

  "No!"

  Lily smirked. "Maybe he should have."

  "I'm going to spank you over the hood of my car."

  "Take pictures and send them to Officer Tasty."

  "Eugh!" I got in the car, trying not to think too much about that. "You know this wasn't a total waste of time," I said, sliding my key into the ignition and checking my mirrors.

  "Why's that?"

  "Because we found out Dean was planning on leaving the country. Maybe he was going to take his cut and go."

  "And not come back," finished Lily. "Dude was going on the lam."

  Chapter Twelve

  We drove straight to Serena's house from Tanya's apartment, throwing theories into the air and hoping one of them would stick as the scenery turned from faded hope to expensive cars parked in driveways of upscale houses. It wasn't quite Bedford Hills, but it was still very nice.

  "I just don't get the attraction," Lily said, still musing on Dean and Tanya Henderson, as we parked behind Serena's Mercedes and walked up the driveway.

  I couldn’t see the attraction with a number of guys Lily dated, so I figured who was I to understand what allured other people?

  "Who knows?" I said. "Maybe it's one of life's mysteries. Did you bring a gift?"

  "I had it delivered."

  "Good thinking.”

  “You?"

  "Gift vouchers."

  "Smart."

  We arrived a half hour early, in time to watch Serena direct the caterers. They brought a table with them, and set it up across one wall of the living room. They were now setting out platters under her scrutiny.

  My mother had arrived earlier to put up decorations. Pleated paper bells were strung across the room, paper men in blue, pink and cream held hands, along with colorful paper cranes and vases stuffed with creamy roses.

  "Great job, Mom," I said, kissing my mother on the cheek.

  "The paper cranes were your father's idea. Apparently, they’re supposed to be lucky.”

  "I like them."

  "Did you find out about the belly-dancing outfit?"

  "Anne at work says there is a dance shop near the train station that sells them. They have a website too." I still didn’t ask her why. I just hoped to heaven my mother didn’t find out about burlesque.

  A therapist from a day spa that Lily and I liked had set up a small station by a leather armchair. Next to her sat a pile of towels and an open kit of nail polishes. She smiled at us and waved, her enthusiasm probably aided by the fat, short-notice fee we agreed upon that would have made me wince if Serena weren't paying.

  The doorbell rang and Serena waved the caterers out, pointing them towards the kitchen, as she eagerly greeted her guests.

  Two hours later, I was standing in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of me. I had to admit, I'd done a great job pulling off Serena's last minute demands for her baby shower. Her house looked great and the guests had made appropriate noises. Serena even gave me the thumbs-up, which was rare for her. I guess she was looking forward to a baby shower almost as long as to having her own baby.

  I navigated past the cluster of chattering women to the long table, plucking a plate from the crisp white tablecloth and helping myself to pasta salad, smoked salmon blinis and my favorite dough balls. I poured a glass of something fruity from one of the pitchers of virgin cocktails; Serena had gotten her way with the mocktinis. Despite repeated pleas, Serena refused to allow any alcohol being served on the grounds. If she couldn’t have any, neither would anyone else. Even though the table had been picked through, plates still groaned with finger foods and Alessandro's left extra platters in the kitchen.

  The pocket doors to the dining room were opened and the dining table held a pile of onesies and craft materials. Around it, a gaggle of women sat, giggling and painting with non-toxic fabric paints while the remaining women got mini pedicures, manicures and facials. Serena sat in the middle of them all, like a fashionable Buddha; tranquil, resplendent and fully in her element as center of attention. I was happy for her.

  Lily waved me over to the crafts table. While I picked at my plate, I looked over her shoulder at her creation. She had painted, in green letters, “What goes up must come down.”

  "She'll love it," I said, stifling a giggle.

  Lily snorted. She knew there was no way on earth Serena was going to let her darling baby wear anything that these women painted.

  "Why do all the women around Serena look so terrified?" I asked in a low voice.

  "She's telling them her birth plan."

  "Oh God. Not the breech story again?"

  "I dunno. I left right after she said 'natural'. There's nothing natural about a human being coming out of your doodah."

  "They all have kids, right?" I said, catching the word “episiotomy” floating towards me. I didn't want to know what that was. It sounded painful.

  "Yeah, which is why they're looking at her like she's crazy."

  "I'm gonna loiter at the gift table."

  "Good luck," said Lily. "Just remember you're hosting this thing."

  "Only because I heard God is giving out karma points on this one." The gift table held a pile of glossy, ribboned parcels. Lily had sent a basket of tiny, little sleepsuits, so miniature they made my ovaries twang when she pointed them out.

  Serena broke away from the crowd, her exit offset by an audible gasp of relief. She linked her arm through mine in an uncharacteristic gesture of sisterhood. "This is fantastic," she said. "I've had a mineral facial and my toes are pink. At least, I think they are. I can't see them."

  I peeked down. "They are," I confirmed.

  "The girls love the spa theme."

  "Told you so. Everyone loves pampering."

  "And the food's great."

  "And when it's all over, I'll send in the cleaning crew and your house will look perfect again." Well, until the baby is born, but I didn't add that. It was better to let Serena find out the babies j
ust didn't fit into schedules and routines. Like renegades, they did their own thing, as my sisters-in-law were fond of saying. I was fairly sure Serena didn't believe them. I guessed she already had the baby’s schedule plotted in six-minute increments.

  "And Ted is happy with the boys," I reminded her. Daniel texted me a picture of them at the golf club bar. Ted was beet red, a baseball cap reading “Daddy” on backwards. I figured they would be there quite some time and Ted might have to pull a sick day tomorrow.

  "I’m amazed you pulled this off so quickly.” Serena beamed and moved on before I could ask her if that was a compliment. “Did you finish the puzzle you told me about at Alessandro's?"

  "The puzzle?" I tried to remember our conversation.

  "The number code you wanted to solve at work," she reminded me.

  "Oh that. No, I'm still stumped." Really stumped. Despite pages of notes, nothing made sense. There was no discernible pattern or anything that could point to the numbers equating to letters.

  "You tried matching the letters to numbers?"

  "I went through the whole alphabet, moving everything one, two, three, four places up and down. It still came out as a jumble."

  "Hmm, well, either you need to move up or down, higher and lower, or it's not an alphabet encryption."

  "So, it could just be numbers?"

  Serena nodded. "Only without some kind of reference point, you'll never know if you've hit the right sequence."

  "How do I get a reference to work from?"

  "Was there anything with the number set at all? A name? A word?"

  I thought about it. "I don't know."

  "If you brought it over, I could go through it with you. Maybe I'll pick something up."

  Serena probably would spot something, but I suspected I'd already put her in enough danger just telling her about the book, if it were even a clue. Generally a pain-in-the-butt, her pregnancy seemed to have mellowed her a little. Much as I knew her help would probably speed things up, my conscience told me to not to put her in harm's way. It was bad enough someone had left decapitated roses on my car, I couldn't risk anything happening to Serena, too.

  "No, it's okay. You're already so busy."

  "I think it's time for a drink. You want one?"