by Ann Charles
I patted his shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re not feeling so down and out anymore, right?”
“True. Now I’m just feeling bruised.”
I smiled and took a step closer to the shelving rack. The various contents lining the four shelves reminded me of my dad’s workshop. Dust-covered jars, cans, and small cardboard boxes were scattered here and there, holding screws, nails, nuts and bolts, as well as insect repellent, mouse traps, work gloves, and more. Mixed in with all of this was some plumbing riff-raff, electrical whatnot, several cans of assorted oils, and four rubber duckies—red, yellow, black, and green, each sitting on a different shelf.
I reached toward the black duckie on the third shelf down, but Cooper caught my arm.
“Look with your eyes, Parker,” he said, “and only your eyes when you’re searching for clues at a crime scene. As soon as you touch something, you’ve contaminated the scene.”
I pulled free of his hold and crossed my arms. “Then how are we supposed to see if there’s a clue in those boxes and jars?”
“We start by looking for something that doesn’t fit in.”
“Like four rubber duckies?” I said, pointing at the yellow duckie sitting on the second shelf down.
“Yep, but those are too easy. They’re obviously planted.” He took the flashlight from me and shined it on the red one. The beam wavered slightly. A glance at Cooper found him wavering slightly, too. “Look, they aren’t even dusty like the rest of the stuff on the shelves.”
They did look fresh out of the tub.
“In fact,” he continued, “all of the items on these shelves are probably staged to distract us.”
He was most likely right, but I didn’t give the know-it-all the satisfaction of hearing me say it.
“There isn’t much else down here.” I took the flashlight back, directing the beam around the large room. A set of dilapidated folding chairs sat in the far corner opposite the stairs we’d come down. They looked like they’d seen action in a couple of wars. There was nothing distracting about them. “Maybe there’s something taped to the underside of those.”
Dodging low-hanging cobwebs and ducking under a pair of pipes running the length of the room, I went to check them out. The chairs held no clue, though, just a few spots of rust and a smattering of light blue paint.
“Nothing, dang it.”
Cooper joined me long enough to take the flashlight back. “I think we should take a closer look around that old water heater.”
Without waiting for me to agree, he headed back toward the heater, listing to the side as if the room was tipped.
But the water heater held no clues, either.
However, the rusted two-drawer filing cabinet was locked, which started us on a new quest—to find the key to open the drawers.
I took charge of the flashlight and shined the beam up on the ceiling, walking around, peering up through cobwebs at the floor joists overhead.
“That key has to be down here somewhere,” I said, extracting a cluster of sticky webs from the tip of the flashlight, before continuing.
“Or not.” Cooper sounded muffled. “They could have hidden it on one of the other two floors. That’s how these games work, I think.”
Something creaked over his way. I aimed the beam toward him, finding him leaning against the edge of the 1950s table with his hands covering his face.
“Are you okay?”
“Everything is spinning. That last drink was a mistake.”
I chuckled under my breath. Been there, done that.
His sick-sounding groan spurred me to take a step back. “Please don’t throw up on my watch.”
“Why not?” He peered at me from between his fingers. “It’s only fair after you threw up on me and my favorite tie.”
“That was the past,” I said, swirling my hands in the air like I was washing it away. “Let’s wipe away that memory and replace it with a happy one, like when we stayed up late watching old black-and-white Westerns together.”
“That’s a happy memory? You were having horrible nightmares at the time and I was too stressed to sleep because I was having to babysit you 24/7 to keep Hawke from throwing your ass in jail.”
Oh, right. I kept swirling my hands anyway. “We’re wiping it all away, see?”
He covered his eyes and groaned again.
While Cooper stayed in one place trying not to lose his cookies, I searched the basement’s dirty windowsills, the shadow-thick corners, and the web-infested backside of the water heater. I even “looked” closely with my eyes—not my hands—over the four shelves, but there was no file drawer key to be found.
I sighed, nudging the red rubber duckie, making it wobble sideways. “I think you’re right, Coop. The key isn’t down here.”
“Und-ra-wares,” he mumbled from behind his hands.
I frowned, trying to make sense of what he’d said while straightening the duckie. “What about your underwear?”
“Why are you asking me about my underwear?” This time his words were clear.
I spotlighted him. “You’re the one talking about them, not me.”
He blocked the beam. “I said ‘under the stairs,’ Parker, as in go look under there.” He pointed toward the staircase with a healthy amount of attitude.
“Okay, okay, Detective Bossypants. I like you better when you’re a sappy drunk.”
“Call me sappy again and I’ll lock you away in one of those cells upstairs.”
“Speaking of overbearing assholes,” I said on my way to the shadow-filled alcove under the staircase. “Ray stopped by my office today.”
“Ray Underhill?”
“The one and only.”
“What did he want?”
“He slipped me a love note under the front door.”
He grunted. “That guy has only ever loved himself. What did it say?”
“Something about being followed and that it’s all my fault.” I squatted and shined the light in the far corners, finding more cobwebs and a small nest of shredded paper. “Even more interesting, Jane weighed in on his visit. She typed a few short messages on my keyboard, claiming that Ray wasn’t alone and is being used as bait.”
“Did she expand on either of those?”
“Nope.” I looked up along the wall, following the underside of the steps upward. “What do you think?”
“I think I should have eaten something before letting Nyce pour all of that whiskey down my throat.”
“I meant about Ray.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“I know that. What about his claim of being followed and Jane sort of confirming it?”
He sighed. “I think we need to find whatever clues are down here and go back upstairs, so I can sit behind the sheriff’s desk while the rest of you figure out how to get me out of this damned jail.”
Fortunately for him, I hit paydirt under the stairs. “Ah ha!” I lifted a small metal key that was hanging from a nail pounded partway into one of the stairsteps.
“What is it?” Cooper trailed me over to the filing cabinet.
“A key.” I nudged him to the side, kneeling in front of the drawers. “You were right, Detective.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you were right about checking under the stairs.”
“One more time, Parker, louder and clearer.”
I looked up, finding him grinning at me. “I said I’m going to cram this key up your crooked nose, Coop.”
He laughed, and then held his palm to his forehead and cursed.
“Learn your lesson, law dog? Give me trouble again and I’ll make you cry like a baby. Just ask your buddy, Detective Hawke, about my propensity to conjure wicked curses.”
Focusing back on the file cabinet, I stuck the key in the slot. The lock turned with a clunk.
“Bingo, baby,” I whispered and opened the top drawer. It was empty except for a couple of pencils and an old lighter that didn’t work. The second drawer had a single piece
of paper in it. I held it up and shined the light on it. Five shapes were drawn on it.
“Are those letters of the Greek alphabet?” Cooper took the paper and the light from me.
“Yep.” I kicked the file drawer closed. “I think we found a clue, but to what?”
He rubbed his jaw. It was so quiet in the basement that I could hear the scratch of his whiskers on his hand. “Let’s go back upstairs and see if any of the others found something requiring a sequence of five Greek letters.”
I looked around the shadow-filled room. “You think we’re done down here?”
“One thing most detectives learn early on, Parker, is that you are rarely ever fully done with a crime scene, which is why I told you to stay out of Ms. Wolff’s place. But did you listen? Oh no, not super-sleuth Violet Parker.”
I jammed my hands on my hips. “My becoming a Timekeeper was Ms. Wolff’s doing, and you know it. You were there. I had no choice but to finish the loop.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “And now Hawke is going to stupid lengths, like round-the-clock drive-bys and sleeping on the floor in Ms. Wolff’s apartment, to keep you and any other nosy-nellies away so that the crime scene remains undisturbed until her case is either solved or listed officially as a ‘cold’ case that will probably never be solved.”
Wow, that was a mouthful from the soused detective. He must be starting to sober up. “My fingers are crossed for the latter.”
“Mine, too, Parker, believe me.”
He started toward the stairs with a slight list. Hmm. Not too sober yet. My flashlight weaved along with Cooper. I followed, ready to catch him if he started to fall.
He slowed as we neared the stairs. “But if those clocks keep disappearing from Wolff’s place and end up on your doorstep, you could wind up behind bars again. No game this time.”
I joined him at the bottom step. “Only one of Wolff’s clocks showed up on Aunt Zoe’s porch and you know it.”
“Yeah, well, that’s one too many in my book.” He latched onto my upper arm and pointed the light up the steps. “Now, help an old man out of the basement.”
“Where’d you leave your leash, law dog?” I teased, pulling him along. “If you’re a good li’l doggy, I’ll give you a treat at the top. Would you like that? Huh?”
“Keep it up, you crazy-haired clown, and I’ll shoot you as soon as the floor stops trying to buck me off.”
“Shucks, Coop. And here I was hoping you and me would be best friends forever before the night was over. Maybe even get matching BFF tattoos.”
“It’s only whiskey, not magic.” He stumbled up a step, leaning onto my shoulder for support.
I laughed. “You’re just a big ol’ drunk teddy bear, Coop.”
“Shut up, Parker,” he said as we continued up the stairs. “And that’s ‘Cooper’ to you.”
Chapter Twelve
Natalie blocked the doorway when we reached the top of the stairs. She shined her flashlight down on Cooper and me. “Ah, look at you two, hugging like long-lost best friends.”
The law dog had been leaning heavily on me the last couple of steps, making my knees work double time. “It is the opinion of my spine that this birthday boy does not need another ‘one to grow on.’ He’s grown too heavy for both of our good.” We lumbered up another step together, him with a grunt, me with a groan. “Nat, get your ass down here and help me.”
Natalie hopped down the few remaining steps like a bunny rabbit. She looped her arm around Cooper’s back from his other side. “Here I am, Hot Cop. What are your other two wishes?”
He chuckled. “I can’t say them right now because Parker’s listening.”
“Maybe later after I get you home and undressed.” She giggled. “I mean comfortable.”
“Definitely later,” I said. “When I’m a few blocks away and the windows are closed.”
We made it to the top much quicker with Natalie joining in the fun. Once there, I stepped away from the two of them, following as she led Cooper toward the sheriff’s office. He seemed much steadier on his feet now that we were on a flat surface, and much more smiley to have Natalie by his side.
“Where’s Cornelius?” I asked. He was supposed to be looking for clues alongside Natalie.
“Upstairs with Doc.”
“I thought Harvey was with Doc,” I said as the three of us filed into the sheriff’s office.
“Somethin’ didn’t sit right with me up there,” the man in question spoke up. He was kicking back in the comfy leather chair, his boots resting on top of the desk.
“You seem to be sitting just fine right now,” Cooper said.
“Damned straight.” He hooked his thumbs around his suspenders and grinned wide enough to show his gold teeth. “There’s a new sheriff in town.”
Natalie left Cooper leaning on the sideboard along the wall, joining me in front of the desk. “I brought you a mighty fine deputy, Sheriff Harvey,” she said with a twangy accent. “He just needs to park in here with you until the whiskey fumes have done burnt off.”
A glance at the clock told me we had about forty-five minutes left until the old docent sprang us from this jail. I wondered if Doc had unearthed anything that would explain the Greek letters written on the slip of paper Cooper and I had found in the basement.
I eyed Harvey. “Your job tonight was to help Doc look for clues, you ol’ mule. Not sit behind a desk with a thistle-eating grin on your face.”
“I’m better at bein’ head honcho. Besides, yer stallion has Corny at his side now. Between the two of ’em, they’re sure to find any needles in the haystack.”
True, but with Cooper too dizzy to search for clues and Harvey now playing sheriff, we were down to four players left to finish the game. “I thought your nephew was supposed to be head honcho tonight.”
Harvey looked up at Cooper. “Him? Naw. He looks like somebody wrung him out of a bartender’s rag.” He aimed his thumb at the steel door that divided us from the mansion. “We need a teetotaler to study the clues and figure out where that door key is, and tonight, Sheriff Harvey is yer man.”
“I’m not that drunk,” Cooper muttered.
“You couldn’t even climb stairs on your own just a few minutes ago,” I reminded him.
Cooper crossed his arms. “Okay, maybe I’m still radioing in as a 10-56, but the world isn’t spinning as much anymore.”
“What’s a 10-56?” I asked.
Harvey snorted. “Code for drunk as a skunk.”
“Not quite,” Natalie said. “But close enough.”
Cooper aimed a raised eyebrow her way. “When did you learn police codes?”
She gave him a cheeky grin. “I have the right to remain silent.”
Cooper’s eyes widened for a moment. Then his gaze narrowed, heating up, sliding down Natalie’s chest and lower, blazing a path along the way.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harvey asked.
Natalie chuckled low and sexy. “It’s a private joke between Mr. Hot Cop and me.” She winked at Cooper before turning back to me. “Did you two find anything in the basement?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” I pulled the slip of paper with the Greek letters out of my pocket and put it on the desk in front of Harvey. “This was locked away in a file drawer.”
Harvey’s boots hit the floor. He leaned over the paper. “These look Greek to me.”
I couldn’t tell if he meant that saying literally or not, so I pointed at each letter, one at a time. “That’s omega, delta, beta, alpha, and …” I scratched my neck. “Crap, I can’t remember that last letter.”
Natalie leaned over the desk. “That’s phi.”
“I know.” Harvey squinted up at me. “As I said before, they look Greek to me. But what’re we supposed to do with them?”
I shrugged. “That’s your job to figure out, Sheriff. My job is to go find more clues.” I nudged Natalie in the arm. “You want to come help me while Harvey babysits Cooper?”
“I don’t
need babysitting,” Cooper growled. He pushed to his feet, only to grimace and sink back down again. “I just need a few more minutes for the merry-go-round to come to a stop.”
“Here’s what Cornelius and I found so far,” Natalie said and dug in her coat pocket, pulling out a keyring with a set of long skeleton keys dangling from it. She dropped them next to the paper with the Greek letters. “We also found this taped to the underside of a chair.” She drew a small screwdriver from her pants pocket. “It has a star-shaped head, which isn’t real common.”
Harvey picked up each item, jotting down some notes on the small pad of paper the docent had given us to keep track of our clues. “Duly noted.”
“I haven’t checked out the restroom yet,” she said.
I smirked. A certain detective and his flashlight had.
“You think we’ll find a clue in there?” I asked, not looking forward to peeking in hard to reach places in a strange bathroom.
“The old guy out front said that if a room wasn’t locked, there might be something hidden in there for us, so we should go check.”
I nodded, focusing back on Harvey. “Has Doc found anything upstairs?”
He shrugged. “I was only up there with him for a few minutes when I felt the need to come back down and take care of business. I appointed myself sheriff after leaving the head.” He scratched his beard. “I did find another flashlight by the sink in the bathroom. Not sure if that’s a clue or not.”
“It’s not a clue,” Cooper spoke up. “It’s mine. I left it by mistake. Did you grab it?”
“Nope. Yer always sayin’ not to touch things at crime scenes.”
Cooper scoffed. “Now you listen to me, but at my actual crime scenes you and Parker are always messing with shit.”
“Quit yer bellyachin’, boy.” Harvey leaned back in his chair and pointed at me. “Sparky, grab the flashlight when you pass by there in case we need it.”
I saluted him. “Will do, Sheriff.”
“Parker, you don’t salute a sheriff.”
“Coop’s right,” Natalie said. “This is more true to course for you and me when it comes to addressing the law.” She scratched her nose with her middle finger.
