Checkered Crime
Book One
A Laurel London Mystery
Tonya Kappes
Chapter One
“Thank God you’re here,” I hollered to Derek Smitherman who had his head stuck under the hood of a car, his usual position. I slammed the door of the old VW van. “Thanks for lunch.” I waved off the guy I had hitched a ride with after our lunch date.
I adjusted my black wrap dress so it was wrapped in all the right places.
Contorting his body, Derek stood up and turned around. He took the dirty oily rag from the back pocket of his blue mechanic overalls and wiped his hands, leaving some smudging on them. He pushed the large-frame black glasses up on the bridge of his nose.
It was a shame he covered up that body; I bet every single woman in Walnut Grove, Kentucky would take their car to him for all of their repairs if he wore a white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of snug Wranglers. Most of the time women got lost in his steel-blue eyes, so bright against his black hair. But if they only knew what was underneath all the clothes…
For years Derek and I used to go skinny dipping in the river until one day our stares lingered a little too long, and we realized our bodies where no longer those of little kids. Derek had grown into a hot dude right before my eyes and I never saw it coming. Too bad I could only think of him like a brother.
“I need your help.” I stuck my hands out to the side like I was on a balance beam, trying to keep my five-foot-eight frame upright on my high-heels because the loose pieces of the beat-up concrete walkway made me a little wobbly. I grabbed the lanyard from around my neck with my Porty Morty’s ID stuck in the clear pouch and threw it in my bag. “I’m not going to need that any time soon. What about that help?”
I hopped onto a piece of concrete slab that was mostly intact, once again having to readjust the wrap dress.
“I learned my lesson a long time ago that before I agree to help you with anything that I better have all the details of what it is you want.” His brows frowned, his eyes narrowed. “Every single detail.”
“Simple. I need a car.” I took the toe of my heel and batted around a piece of loose concrete to avoid all of the questions that were going to follow.
“No way, no how am I going to help you out.” Derek looked over my shoulder at the beat-up van. His five o’clock shadow was a little thicker than normal.
The gears grinded before the driver of the VW gave us the peace sign and took off.
I took a couple steps forward and rubbed the back of my hand down his chin.
“No wonder you can’t get any ladies. Clean yourself up.” I messed up his hair.
He jerked his head back. He quirked his eyebrow questioningly.
“Who was that?” He asked in a “good ole boy” voice and jerked his head to the right, getting a better view of the VW.
“Gary. . .um. . .Barry I think.” I shrugged off his interrogation. “Lunch Date Dot Com.”
“Good grief.” Derek shook his head. “I’d rather stay single.”
Lunch Date Dot Com was a dating website where you met for lunch on your lunch breaks. I didn’t even bother to read the guy’s profile before I accepted his lunch offer because I was starving and I needed a ride to come out here and see Derek.
“So what about that car?” I wiggled my brows that were in desperate need of a wax.
Given my current money status, I was going to have to settle for Trixie’s hot pink jeweled tweezers she picked up on her weekly run to the Dollar Store.
“I don’t think so.” Derek resumed his position under the hood of the elevated car. “Besides, where is your company car from Porty Morty’s?”
“I got fired,” I murmured. I adjusted the tight black Diane Von Furstenberg dress I had picked up from the local Salvation Army. Wrapping a piece of my shoulder-length honey-colored hair behind my ear, I batted my grey eyes and used fifteen hundred dollars cash to fan my face. “I’ve got fifteen hundred dollars. You can use it to fix that little concrete problem you have.” I pointed to the chipped-up material.
“Laurel London, did you say fired?” Derek swiftly turned back around and waved a wrench in the air until he saw the cash. There was a little twinkle in his eye. I knew Derek like the back of my hand. He loved cash just as much as I did.
I waved the dough under his nose. “That is why I need a new car.”
When I heard a faint sniff as the cash passed his left nostril, I knew he was on the line. It was time for me to hook him and reel him in.
“Trixie will skin my hide if I take that stolen cash.”
“Stolen?” Okay. I was officially offended. “You think I stole this money? I want you to know,” I jerked my shoulders back and cocked my chin in the air. His eyes were on the cash. “This is guilt money from Morty. That no good sonofa…,” I muttered a few curse words under my breath.
“See, why do you have to go around talking like that?” Derek asked. His face contorted. “That along with your…um…sticky fingers don’t make me want to do any sort of favors for you anymore.”
“Sticky fingers? Geesh.” I threw my hands in the air. “When is this town ever going to get over that?”
“Over it?” He laughed. “Over it?”
“Yeah, heard you the first time.” I spoke softly and narrowed my eyes.
“You have pick-pocketed every single person in the town, not to mention how you hacked into the Wilsons’ accounts after they took you in.”
“Oh that. Phish!” I gestured. “That was seven years ago. I was fifteen years old. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t right there with me.” I tapped my temple and then brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and again fanned myself with the money. Clearly the sticky, humid weather wasn’t doing me any favors. “I clearly remember you threading the fishing line on the Quantum Rod and Reel you had on your Christmas list. I played Santa, that’s all.” I shrugged, recalling all the crappy Christmas presents the orphanage gave all of us year after year and when I had decided to use the Wilsons’ credit card to buy all the orphans real Christmas presents.
“It was your chance to get out of the big house and you blew it.” Derek shook his head. He put the wrench in his back pocket and crossed his arms in front of him. “Anyone would have given their arm to get out of there and have a real Christmas for once.”
True, true. I didn’t have a leg to stand on with his argument.
I admired Derek. He got out of the orphanage with a great job and was working on his dream to become a police officer. He was almost finished with night classes at the University of Louisville.
“You didn’t tell me the truth about those Christmas presents or I would’ve never shown up to meet you.” Derek’s lip turned up in an Elvis kind of way exposing a small portion of his pearly white teeth and deepening the dimple on his cheek. A distant twinkle flickered in his blue eyes. “You sure were believable when you told me they bought all the presents for the orphanage. Genius in fact.” He pointed his finger at me. “I credit you for me wanting to be a cop. Since I know how you work, I’m going to be able to figure out how criminal minds work.”
“Ha, ha.” I slowly clapped my hands. “Very funny,” I sneered.
“That was then.” I waved the money again. “Before I made myself an honest girl and got a big girl job.”
“Getting fired from Porty Morty’s is a big girl job?” Derek chuckled. “How did you get fired from selling port-a-lets?”
I wasn’t sure, but I detected a little hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“Morty let me go. Something about overhead and people aren’t using port-a-potties anymore.” My mouth dipped down.
“Where are th
e people pooping?” Derek’s nose curled up.
“Got me.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I need a set of wheels. That old 1977 beat-up Caddy was Morty’s. He let me borrow it because my job was to get all of those outdoor venues to use Porty Morty’s at their events. He made me give it back. I need a new set of wheels to find a job before Trixie finds out. She is going to kill me when I tell her Morty let me go.”
Kill might be a strong word to use, but she wasn’t going to be happy. Trixie had been in charge of the orphanage for years. It just so happened that when I turned eighteen, the state shut down the orphanage forcing Trixie to retire.
She said I needed guidance and in no formal sort of way she became my guardian. The only mother figure I’d known. In truth, I think she was really worried about me and wanted to make sure I did well. She was the first person to ever see potential in me. Then and there I’d decided I was going to make something of myself. She got me the job with Morty and I’d been working there ever since, bringing home a steady paycheck. Not much. But it was reliable. I was able to get a studio apartment, though my rent was always a tad bit late.
“I love you like a sis’ and all, but how am I going to do that?”
“You got all those cars out there.” I pointed to the field filled with abandoned cars that Derek used for parts. The grass had grown up around the tires which were probably dry-rotted, and they all had a little rust. Nothing a set of new tires and paint job couldn’t fix.
“Those old clunkers? Nah, I don’t have anything that’s reliable and good enough to drive.” He bit the side of his lip.
I waved the money again. “Morty called it compensation.” Compensation my ass. It was guilt money. “It’s all I have to get me a car. Come on. I’ve been on the straight and narrow for five years. You know it, and I know it. All I need is a car to get around so I can get another job.”
Jobs were slim pickings in our little town of twelve hundred. Louisville was only thirty minutes away and surely I could score some sort of job there.
“I don’t know.” Derek shook his head. “There really isn’t anything out there that fifteen hundred will fix.”
I put my hand up to my brows to cover the sun beaming down and scanned the field. There had to be something.
“What about that one?” I pointed to the black-and-white-colored one to the far right. Sort of off by itself.
“That old ’62 Plymouth Belvedere?” Derek laughed so hard, he was hyperventilating.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?” There was no humor in my voice. “Other than the faded sign on the side.”
“Come on.” He tugged his head to the side. “The engine may need a good clean up.”
“Okay.” Like I knew what that meant. I followed him to the edge of the grass and stopped to take my shoes off. The heels would’ve gotten stuck in the ground and I had to keep them clean. It was going to be a long time before I bought any new shoes. “Oh.” My face contorted. Up close I could tell the old Belvedere had seen better days.
I swiped my hand across the dusty old door.
“Taxi?” I laughed, never recalling a taxi service in Walnut Grove.
“I got that when the police academy tore down the old building on the edge of town.” He pointed to me. Derek was also training to be a deputy with the sheriff’s department. On Monday and Wednesday he drove to the University of Louisville for the police academy. “Remember? I told you about how they had us running around the old building and things popped out at us and we had to assess the situation before we pulled the trigger.”
Vaguely I remember him saying something about it.
“Still. I’m serious, Derek. I need a ride.” I tapped the car. “Even if it does say taxi.”
“Can you imagine if you drove that thing down Main Street.” He slapped his knee. “Everyone would know you were crazy, not just wonder.”
“We could repaint it,” I suggested.
“We? We?” He gestured between the two of us. “You mean me.”
“Come on,” I begged. “You are my only hope of not letting Trixie down. You don’t want to do that, do you? After she has done for us. This place.” I pointed to his garage.
Trixie owned the property and when Derek graduated from mechanic school, she gave him the run-down building that he had turned into his business.
“Oh.” He shook his finger at me. “You are good at playing the guilt card. I worked hard for this place. I went to work every morning before school and every day after school.”
“Yeah, but Trixie gave you the car to do it.” I reminded him of her other good deed.
His chest heaved up and down as he let out a heavy sigh. He knew I had him.
“The only real problem with it is the rust.” He rubbed his hands along the side of the car and walked back to the bumper. “It was garage kept and it has low mileage. I probably should have covered it with a tarp or something, but I thought I’d be using it for parts. I suppose it would look fine if you painted it.”
“You can do that for me right?” I squinted to keep the sun out of my eyes. The skies were blue and the sun was bright.
“No. I don’t do paint,” he protested.
“I bet you could.” I tilted my head around the edge of the car to see the other side.
“Laurel, you exhaust me.” He bit the side of his lip.
I could tell he was thinking about it so I put the unexplained shadow behind me and batted my lashes. I put my hands together in a little praying way and mouthed please.
“Fine.” He jammed his hands in the pockets of his overalls. “It’s not going to be perfect,” he warned.
“I don’t care.” I smiled from ear to ear. I held the money out in front of me.
“Nope. I’m not taking the only money you have.” He shoved my hand back toward me. “Consider it an early Christmas gift.”
“You do love me.” I jumped up and down before throwing my arms around his neck.
“No. I love that Quantum Rod and Reel still.” He gave me a slight hug back.
Chapter Two
“Now what are we going to do?” I held the refrigerator door wide open hoping to find something, anything deep within the depths of the beat-up, dented box after Derek dropped me off. Now I wished I had taken the leftovers from Lunch Date Dot Com guy.
Meow. Henrietta, my cat, sat at my feet looking into the refrigerator.
Meow. She looked up at me and licked her lips.
“I promise I will find us something.” I sighed. “Have I ever let you down?”
One night Derek and I were hanging out at the river down at the docks doing what teenagers did (drinking) and we found Henrietta under a bush on the banks. Of course I took her home and didn’t tell Trixie.
Henrietta wasn’t a very quiet kitten and that night she cried and cried. I was too drunk to even hear her, but Trixie’s super-sonic ears heard. Henrietta got me and her into trouble that night. Luckily Trixie let me keep her.
Henrietta pounced into the air, bringing me back to the present situation. She batted something between her front paws. A six-legged creature scurried out from under her.
Jealous, I watched Henrietta pounce again because I knew the outcome of the play fight Henrietta thought she was doing with the insect. The insect knew it too. Dinner.
“Enjoy,” I said and turned my attention back to the refrigerator.
My stomach growled. The dried-up slice of lemon wasn’t going to cut it.
Henrietta licked her paws before running them across her ears. Satisfied with her snack, she looked back up at me.
The laptop dinged.
“Oh, live one.” I rushed over to the futon and grabbed my laptop off the side table. “Let’s see who is going to take me to lunch tomorrow.”
Right or wrong, I never turned my laptop off. The dating website tab was open and I had a new message from Bob.
“Hi Bob.” I scrolled down the screen to get a look at him. “Not bad.”
I usually didn’t go for the muscle t
ypes, especially the ones that wore wife-beater tees. Though I did have to admit, his handsomely good looks along with the pearly white smile did overcome the bulging pecs.
Meow. Henrietta had an opinion.
“Yeah. I think we might get a good juicy piece of salmon out of this one.” I quickly typed a note back to Bob.
Bing.
“And Bob answered.” I hit the open button of the message. He was unable to make a lunch date because of work, but he was more than happy to have dinner.
Hmm…dinner was a big commitment that I wasn’t sure I was willing to do only because I would feel like I needed to keep the night going. Lunch was way better because we had to get back to work. At least I used to have to get back to work. I decided cocktails would be better and then it could extend to dinner if it went well. I dashed off a reply to Bob and looked at Henrietta.
“Let’s go.” I grabbed her hot pink, crystal-studded leash and clipped it on her collar.
She had gotten used to being on a leash when we lived at the children’s home. The orphanage was in the country. I didn’t want her to run off. We didn’t have the extra money to buy a leash and Trixie made it clear that Henrietta was my responsibility. Derek and I had gone to Kmart to check out the cost of leashes and one stuck to my sticky fingers and fit Henrietta perfect.
Trixie never asked where I had gotten it, nor did I tell her.
The efficiency I rented was on Second Street, a street over from The Cracked Egg. Henrietta and I definitely would score some food there. My best friend Gia Picerilli’s family owned the greasy spoon, plus she worked there and knew my food situation.
I reached down and put my hand out. Henrietta brushed her back on my palm, stopping briefly to let me attached the leash. She loved going for walks.
At least it was sunny and warm, not raining like most spring days. Henrietta happily walked in front of me with her head high in the air. Sure we got strange looks from people who didn’t know us. Henrietta thought she was human. People who did know me, knew I was rarely without her.
We headed south on Second Street and left on Main. The street was already lined with parked cars. The Cracked Egg was known for its delicious food. Some people traveled forty-five minutes just to get one of Mr. Chiconi’s bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches.
Checkered Crime: A Laurel London Mystery Page 1
