The Hibiscus Heist
Page 5
“What does he do again?”
“He works for the government.” Thankfully, Abby entered the room ending any more questions she couldn’t answer.
Lily looked into her assistant’s eyes and saw fear. Her eyes were wide. She was breathless. Lord, I don’t need any more drama, or crime. I thought You knew that by now!
“Lily, I need to show you something in the hallway. Now.” She turned and headed out of the room just as quickly as she had entered.
“Well, I guess I better go,” Lily murmured. The other two occupants of the ballroom stood silently, questioning what they’d just witnessed. What now?
Abby was wringing her hands, literally. She was pacing, talking to herself when Lily joined her.
“What is going on?” Lily demanded as she grabbed her assistant by the shoulders. “The bride loved the flowers. I saw that with my own eyes.”
“I know, I know, but you didn’t see what I saw,” Abby stammered. “When I went back up there with the moms’ corsages and the flower girl’s little bouquet, they told me to place them in the suite’s refrigerator. So I did.”
“So, what is the problem?”
“The door to the bathroom was open, and you know I love to look around a great hotel room, well, I saw... I saw someone.”
“Take a breath, Abby.” Lily moved her hands to her assistant’s shaking ones, holding tightly.
Abby nodded and took in air. “There were lines of cocaine on the counter, but that’s not what scared me to death. It was him.”
“Him, who, Abs?”
“As I was leaving the suite, I saw Garrett Notte leaving from the bedroom area.”
Lily drew in a breath now and held Abby’s hands tighter, if that was possible.
“Garrett Notte should be in jail,” Lily said flatly.
“Should be, but I know I saw him.”
Lily’s brain was racing, making list after list, picturing Garrett Notte, remembering John’s body wedged in the shop’s doorway, feeling the rain drench her hair, shock and panic pelting her nervous system, seeing that shadow of a face. Had the hooded man been Garrett? Had the face belonged to him?
“Abby, let’s go back in and get the job done. We still have some of the tables to finish. We need to decorate the cake. I’ll text Tom and see if he knows anything. We’ll be safe while we work.” Lily was mastering lying to her very own assistant.
“Lily, they wouldn’t have let him out, would they?”
“I don’t know.” Lily really didn’t know. It was still unclear how much and why Garrett had participated in the entire drug fiasco of last year. She knew he was involved in some illegal activity. “Let’s go back to work.”
Lily almost pushed Abby back into the ballroom as she texted Tom. Surely, he’d know if Notte was out. She didn’t mention the cocaine. Irony was never lost on her, but Garrett and drugs in the same hotel suite couldn’t be coincidental.
An hour later, Lily and Abby looked around at the completed reception. The guest tables were decked out, and the cake featured an elaborate cascade of fresh blooms in shades of blue from the very top, waterfalling onto the table.
They were carrying boxes out to the van when Tom called.
“Lily, are you two safe?”
She could hear his concern, sending a tinge of fear coursing up her spine. Her mother used to say that the feeling was someone walking on your grave. “We are, but Abby saw him. Is he out?”
Tom sighed. “I checked and yes, he was released a few months ago. His passport was relinquished, and he is monitored. He made some deal. My contact didn’t go into details.”
Lily stopped and shut her eyes in prayer.
“Lily?” Tom was still on the line.
“Thanks.” What was there to say? What was there to do?
“I want you girls to call me if you see anything, or him. Do you understand? Don’t text, call.”
“We will. Thank you. I have to go.”
As they packed the van, she relayed his information to Abby, confirming Tom’s direct number. They were sitting in the van ready to go when Abby finally said something.
“With all that cocaine in the room, do you think the bride will even see the flowers?” There was a sadness in her voice. “All that work and she won’t even appreciate it.”
“Oh, she will. Of course, she might not see the blue. To her it might look like purple, a purple spinning top over a haze of fluffy clouds. I’m not sure that the cake won’t look like icing on poop.”
Abby smiled apprehensively. “So at least it’ll be pretty?”
Lily started for home. “As long as the bride is happy, remember, Abs?”
If only Lily was happy today. That pit-of-the-stomach feeling had her writing another list in her head as she crossed the bridge heading toward home. I need to double check all the locks in the house, make sure all the windows are locked and closed, set the alarm system, more lights at night, place hammer and pepper spray by my bed. The list kept growing. She’d needed larger post-it notes.
The next morning Lily sat in the church pew only partially listening to the priest and his homily. He was speaking about justice. She was thinking about Garrett and what kind of justice there was in the world. Gone were the days of Jessica Fletcher solving the crime and neatly tying up every ribbon of intrigue in a tight little bow. Lily was just going through the motions of today’s service. She just knew deep down today’s Mass wouldn’t count. She’d get up to heaven for judgement and there on the list, yes she was confident that God made lists too, it would say “Lily, you didn’t pay attention in church on Sunday.” He’d know.
She made her routine rounds, grabbing coffee and a scone, getting her groceries for the week, coming home and dressing in her comfy sweats. She had new FBI ones, thanks to Tom and his wife. Fully attired, comfy and now scary to her neighbors. When she wore them the last time and was working in the yard, a neighbor asked if she’d joined the law enforcement group. Of course, she lied. Now she could lie very well and be very convincing. She made up an elaborate story filling in details about how she’d bought the sweats at the FBI museum, the lunch she had down the street and the tour she took of the Kennedy Center.
She had a plan for the day, of course, but first she decided to grab a glass of water and make one phone call. God help her, what was she thinking? She was calling someone who thought she knew everything in Kansas City, someone who could make her life a living hell if given the opportunity. But she needed information.
Lord, just let me die in my sleep. Lily’s heart beat a little faster as the phone rang. Gretchen Malloy’s messaging service picked up. She would live another day.
“Gretchen, hate to bother you, but this is Lily.”
“Hello, hello, Lily, is that you?”
Damn, she picked up. God, is there any reason you allow me to suffer?
Although Gretchen was the most infuriating wedding coordinator to work with, she had been nicer, if that was possible for Gretchen, since last year. Mistakenly, the final two bags of drugs that had been delivered to Lily’s, made their way into Gretchen’s delicate, cat-like hands.
Once the wedding coordinator had purred and spit, she actually saved the day and ended Lily’s debut into the world of illegal drugs. Besides, Gretchen thought very special agents Tom Fullerton and Devlin Pierce were pretty cute. She had even said that Dev was “delicious”. Lily couldn’t really argue with that.
“I’m so sorry to bother you.”
She heard Gretchen yawn. “I was just napping. I got up earlier and I just was so tired. You know, I hate to admit it Lily, but I’m not a spring chicken anymore. I’m sure you understand that at our ages we need just a little more rest.”
Lily rolled her eyes. Our ages? The woman could be my mother. What had she thought calling the vamp of the venues?
Gretchen was still talking. “If I’m up past midnight, I’m worthless the next day. Now what can I do for you and how is your delicious secret agent?”
Lily h
ad to laugh. Of course she would ask about Dev. “He is just great. I’ll tell him you said hello. I’m actually calling for some information.”
“What, dear?”
“Do you have information about Garrett Notte or the Notte family? Since last year and all that went down, Mrs. Notte hasn’t been in once and now I’m hearing that Garrett is out of jail.”
Lily could almost hear Gretchen licking her lips. Scandal was her specialty. That and attempting to seduce very special agents.
“I heard rumors he was at the club the other day. So, he is out of jail or detention or whatever. I don’t even think he has an ankle bracelet. His father came home too and they don’t let that dear little woman out of the house anymore. It’s a shame. I ran into her butler and he was practically in tears over the whole situation.” Gretchen took a breath. “By the way, what did Garrett do?”
“I’m not sure but I know he was involved in everything. I miss Mrs. Notte, even when she occasionally shoplifted.”
Gretchen laughed out loud. “You know, they had a running tab for her at various department stores on the Plaza. She stole the country club’s silverware. Once a month her driver collected it all and returned the assorted spoons, forks and knives. I swear, such outlandish behavior.”
Lily rolled her eyes again. Oh, if Gretchen only knew what Abby and she said about her. They were kind compared to the rest of the wedding professionals in Kansas City with their complaints and assessments. But Dev had come up with a doozy. Gretchen was like a wedding terrorist, cocktail glass in one hand, whip in the other sporting her stiletto heels and tight leather pants. The finishing touch of makeup was described as a clown on steroids for the matinee circus.
“You know Lily, there has been some talk over at the club. They’ve all been talking about a bad element. Do you think they could be talking about Garrett?”
“I don’t know anymore. It just bothers me that he is out there somewhere on the streets. Abby is scared to death.”
“Well, you girls just watch yourselves. I’ll do some checking and get back to you. By the way, I was the coordinator and planner for the Lila Masters’ wedding last week. You know, the George Masters family in Mission Hills.”
Lily checked out. Gretchen’s speech pattern was similar to the priest this morning. She hadn’t listened to him and now she was making lists while the wedding coordinator droned on. Lord, how were Gretchen and a priest similar? How was that in any way possible? Cocktail glass, whip, heels, leather pants, makeup, no, the image was too disgusting.
“And I know they spent at least a half a million dollars on it.”
“Wow.” Lily hoped that was the appropriate response.
“I know. Well, I better let you go, and I’ll do my own little spying. You can tell Dev that the next time he’s in town we can compare notes on our little espionage escapades.”
“I know he can’t wait to see you,” Lily lied. Actually he could wait to see her, a very long, long wait. “Thanks, talk soon.”
Later that Sunday night, while Lily, Gretchen and most of Kansas City slept, a young man was gasping for every breath. He stumbled around the country club’s walkway, landing near the first hole of the golf course. He shivered and lingered for only a few minutes.
It was a cool Monday morning when the head groundskeeper arrived at work. Kansas City was heading into winter, a light frost had coated the greens. Even though it would be cool, if it wasn’t raining or snowing, the members would be out there golfing.
His coffee was still warm as he took a drink and rounded the first hole. He spat the liquid out as he viewed the young man’s crumpled body, blue and frost-covered.
“Jesus.”
Jeff Potter’s Monday was beginning before the sun rose. He stopped at the traffic light a block before the dealership. As he took a drink of warm coffee from his Chiefs’ mug, he saw a police car pull away from a parked car on the side of the road near the interstate. Police car 1028 passed by him slowly. He looked toward the abandoned car. It was familiar. The light blue Honda was very familiar. He made a right, and then u-turned, parking behind the car. His dealership sticker was on the back. He wrote down the license plate number. As he drove away, he saw the tow tag. He’d call his brother as soon as he got to work. He suspected this car’s owner might not welcome it with open arms.
It was almost noon when Lily received the call.
“Lily Schmidt, this is Detective Greg Potter. I’m the brother of Jeff from the car dealership. We found your car.”
Lily plopped down in her chair. Never speechless, she murmured only one word. Well, only one word after she uttered a profanity.
“What?”
“We’ve found your car and moved it to the impound lot.”
Lily massaged her forehead. Unbelievable. After weeks away, her car had found its way home.
“My brother is sending a tow truck driver to pick you up and take you to the lot. Make sure you have identification and bring your police report. If it’s drivable you can take it with you but I’d recommend you have Jeff check it out first.”
“Thank you,” Lily muttered. She didn’t want her car back. She cussed out loud again. Just one more week and the insurance company was going to total it, and now she’d be stuck with it.
Two hours later she was looking at her long-lost car in the lot. Lily stood near the trunk. The tow truck driver Ray was looking inside the vehicle. He’d added plastic gloves onto his hands. He waved her away from the car.
“Ms. Schmidt, this looks nasty. There’s a bad smell.” He continued to look through the windows. He fingered the outside lock on the driver’s side.
“There’s no damage here. It’s like they had a key.” Ray opened the door slowly, moving his hand over his nose quickly. He peered inside and closed the door. “No damage to the steering column either. But you never know the damage to the undercarriage or how the engine may have been pushed.”
The breeze created by the closing door blew the stench in Lily’s direction.
“What is that smell?”
“Human waste and urine, blended with pot, maybe some defrosted heroine?”
Lily shielded her nose, suddenly sick to her stomach. “Are you kidding?”
“No, they don’t care, whoever they are. Let’s get this thing to the dealership and you back home. Someone needs to figure this out. This car should’ve been checked out before it was released to you. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Oh great, another bad feeling! But she’d never been so happy to have a man make a decision for her. Not only were her olfactory senses overwhelmed, her brain seemed to be reaching its intake capacity. And she certainly didn’t want to be part of another criminal investigation. The neighbors were really beginning to talk.
After the appropriate forms were signed, the car attached to the tow, and a long truck ride back, she was dropped off at her shop once more.
“I’ll take it to the dealership and they’ll be in touch. Check in with your insurance company tomorrow,” Ray yelled over the truck’s motor as Lily climbed down.
“Thank you.” Thanks for nothing. I’m stuck with a biohazard Civic. She could barely contain her sarcasm as Abby greeted her.
“So, was it your car?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The prodigal Honda has returned to its mother.”
Abby held out a small package. “You have a present. It came just after you left.”
“Now what?” There was no return address. She sat down at the consultation table and opened it slowly. Inside was a small bottle completely consumed by bubble wrap. A card was beneath it.
“Lily, no flower was killed in the making of this item, but some oranges, limes, lemons and other citrus offered their lives up freely when they knew they were coming to you. I wish I could be there. Miss you. Dev.”
She unwrapped it carefully and pulled off the stopper, breathing in deeply. Suddenly, the stench was gone and the world was a pretty place once again. Dev ha
d saved a terrible day. She didn’t feel like eating, again.
Chapter Seven
Before Abby happily bounced into the shop, Lily had called everyone on her list and was going down her emails.
“Abs, you will not believe this. We only have one hour set up at the reception venue on Saturday.” Lily reached for her coffee. She’d need a lot more caffeine on Saturday to set up this reception.
Abby stood over the counter like a vulture overseeing its prey. “So how’s the car?”
“Well, despite the fact that it’s a biohazard and should be sent off to some government entity, the insurance company thinks it can be saved.”
“It’ll never be clean enough. I won’t ride in it,” Abby announced.
Lily continued to look at the computer. “My sentiments exactly.”
Lily’s cell phone rang and she looked at the caller ID. “Now what? It’s Gretchen.”
Abby bolted for the back room. Coward, Lily thought.
“Good morning, Gretchen. I don’t think we have a wedding together.”
“No, we don’t Lily, but I need to tell you something.”
Lily placed her glasses down on the desk. Sadly, she remembered Gretchen’s comment about age. No, she wasn’t getting any younger. But what the heck now? The world truly would be coming to an end if Gretchen Malloy and Lily Schmidt became besties. Dev would probably never talk to her again so she’d have to choose between the two of them. Ruggedly handsome would win hands down.
“Monday morning at the club,” Gretchen drawled in whispered tones in some sort of accent that Lily didn’t recognize, “a young man’s dead body was found on the first hole of the golf course.”
Lily rubbed her forehead. Why did that matter to her?
“That’s a shame, Gretchen. I’m sorry, but I’m very busy.”
“Lily, wait. You don’t understand. The young man died from some weird drug overdose of pot or something.”
Why was Gretchen calling her? Lily fell back in her chair as though she’d been shot. Help me, Lord. She clicked her little stuffed R2D2 until it made its little R2D2 noise. After two pushes the noise stopped. The battery was gone, but Gretchen was still babbling about something. Give me patience to deal with the dimwits and drama queens of the world, and Gretchen.