She had a smile on her face, showing her rotted teeth, since she didn’t think anyone was looking. Another thing she could have spent this money on, I thought. She needed dental work in a bad way.
I stayed long enough to watch Alyssa trudge back up the driveway and into her home. As she shut the door, I realized my whole morning had been wasted, and Alyssa’s money had been, too.
I put the binoculars in back in the glove compartment, and turned the key to start my car, when my phone rang. It was Charles.
“Did you even bother to check out the address that woman gave you?” His voice sounded concerned.
I hadn’t even considered it. “No, why?”
“That property belongs to Irma Tucker.” His words were clipped.
Irma Tucker. That was her name. Irma had come out to greet us when we were doing surveillance on a barn that housed a candle making company. Irma happened to own that property, too.
I laughed. “Wow, that Irma must be loaded.”
“Mimi, I don’t like this.”
I didn’t understand Charles’s apprehension, other than that he and Irma didn’t exactly hit it off. Charles wasn’t fond of having an old woman stick a shotgun in his face.
“What’s not to like? So Irma owns a few properties in Prunedale.” I put my car in drive, and inched forward toward the road. “She’s old enough that she probably bought the properties for next to nothing. Rental property is good income.”
Before my wheels hit the pavement, I heard a thundering boom. I looked up, and the cottage that Alyssa had walked into just moments earlier had erupted into a ball of flames. The windows blew out, and fire spewed from the open frames.
“Holy shit.”
I heard Charles screaming in my ear. “What the hell was that? Mimi, are you okay?”
I was definitely not okay.
4
“Charles, I’ve gotta go.” I hung up as he was yelling in my ear.
I backed off the road and deep into the driveway I’d been camping out in, put my car in park and turned off the engine. Then I dialed 911 before Charles could call me back. It was a typical 911 call where they asked my emergency and I told them, along with the address. She’d wanted me to stay on the line until rescue workers arrived, but I hung up.
I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be in an exploding building. I sat, stunned for a moment. Alyssa and her husband had been blown to bits in what was now a huge ball of fire. The flames licked up toward the sky, engulfing the small cottage roof, and then the building collapsed, the walls giving way, and the roof was now on the floor. No one could have survived that explosion.
I turned to look at Lola, who was asleep in the back seat. I heard her growl briefly at the sound of the cottage exploding, but then she settled back in. I left Lola in the car and ran across the road to the property I’d been watching. Knowing there was nothing I could do about the fire, I ran to the front house to see if everyone was okay.
A woman of about seventy answered the door. She wore a white tee with the logo of some marathon on the front, yoga pants and running shoes. “Yes?”
“Ma’am, didn’t you hear the explosion?”
She adjusted her hearing aid and said, “What?”
“Come with me.” I grabbed her by the arm, which was quite muscular, and she didn’t resist.
I walked her past the garage and showed her the ball of fire that had been a home. “See? Didn’t you hear the explosion?”
Her eyes widened as she said, “Oh, my.”
“I’ve called 911, but I think you need to leave your house in case the fire spreads, or in case there is a gas leak of any kind.”
She just stared. “This isn’t good. I have to call Irma.”
“I’ve called the police.”
“No,” she snapped. “No police.”
“Too late.” I shook my head.
“Shit. I need to call Irma.” She jogged toward her front door.
This grey-haired lady jogged like a teenager to her door, and I stood watching in awe. I wanted to be half that fit when I was seventy or eighty.
I called after her. “Do you have Irma’s phone number handy? I can call her for you.”
The woman’s blue-gray ponytail bobbed as she rushed back to her house. It was as if she’d forgotten I was standing there.
“Ma’am.” I jogged to catch up to her. “I’ll come in with you to call Irma, but then we need to leave.”
She looked at me as if I’d just appeared. “You can’t come in. George doesn’t like strangers.”
I was pretty sure her husband wouldn’t mind under these circumstances. “I’m sure George won’t mind, just tell him about the fire and that I’m here to help.”
She stopped, blocking the doorway. “He won’t understand.”
I looked past her and saw that the inferno was highly visible from her dining room sliding glass doors, which faced the back of her house.
I started to push past her. “I’m sure he will.”
That’s when I heard a hiss. The woman shoved me hard and slammed the door before I could process what I’d seen. She was much stronger than she looked. Considering whom George apparently was, she needed to be strong.
George stood his ground on the far side of the living room. His coat was tawny with a silverfish-grey undertone, and his blue eyes pierced me. He had a round head and erect ears, and I swear I heard him scream as the woman shut the door.
This was the closest I’d ever been to a cougar, and closer than I’d ever wanted to be. What the hell was a senior citizen doing with a cougar for a house pet?
I’m positive the George she was referring to was that cougar. In which case, I had no desire to explain the situation. As a matter of fact, I thought it best to leave, so I did. This lady could obviously take care of herself.
I started up the hill, to see if maybe Alyssa or her husband had been hurt and needed help, though I figured they were dead. But I could never forgive myself if they were alive and injured and I’d just walked away.
A few steps around the garage toward the backyard and I heard the cock of a gun. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
I turned to see the same gray haired woman now aiming a rifle in my direction. I went to reach for my Beretta and realized I didn’t have it on me. This was supposed to be a routine stakeout, why would I need a gun? I put my hands in the air.
I opened my mouth to respond and out of the corner of my eye I saw a reddish-black streak dashing across the yard.
Lola pounced on the lady as if she were a hardened criminal. The rifle went flying across the yard, and Lola stood with all fours straddling the woman, teeth barred. Even over the crackle of the huge fire, I could hear her growling.
The lady raised her hands to push Lola off her, and Lola opened her mouth as if to take the woman’s arms off. She immediately put her hands back down and lay still.
I took my time walking up to the old hag. I thought she deserved to be intimidated by Lola if she had the nerve to draw down on me when I was only trying to help.
The batshit crazy woman was fuming. “Get this mutt off of me,” she screamed.
This made Lola drop her snarling gaze even closer to the hag’s face.
“Her name is Lola, and she’s not a mutt.” I patted Lola on the back. “Now tell me your name and I’ll get her off of you.”
“Wanda. I’m Wanda Tucker.”
I pulled Lola off of Wanda and she sat up.
“You’re Irma’s sister?”
“Sister-in-law. And I’m going to sue your ass.” She stood and brushed herself off.
Lola jumped at her, and she flinched, but didn’t step back.
“You’re not going to sue anyone, or I’ll tell them about your precious George. You know it’s illegal to have a cougar in captivity without the proper facilities or license?”
Wanda pulled a can of tobacco from her bra, pinched a bit, and put it between her cheek and gum. S
he tucked it deep in her cheek and spit on the ground before responding.
“Fuck you, call whoever you want.” She turned and went back into the house.
I’m pretty sure my mouth was wide open for a moment. I’d never heard a woman her age speak like that. Then again, I’d never seen a woman of any kind take a dip of chewing tobacco. She was an enigma. Healthy, fit, could handle a rifle with ease, and chewed tobacco and cussed like a sailor. I almost liked her. Or not.
I heard her front door slam as the fire engines pulled up the driveway. I sucked in a deep breath and sighed. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
I turned to see Charles running up the driveway toward me. “What the hell is going on?”
“What are you doing here?”
“You think I’d let you do this by yourself? I had to run an errand, or I’d have been here when you hung up on me.” Charles huffed. “And don’t ever hang up on me again.”
I ignored the last remark and said, “I think that woman from yesterday, Alyssa, was just blown to smithereens in that house.” I started to shake.
“That was a house?” He gaped at the massive fire.
“She just came back from taking her kids to school, and boom.” I crossed my arms tightly in front of me.
“Have you been up there yet?”
I rolled my head to the side to stretch out my neck, which was tight and tense. “I’ve been trying to get up there, but I had to stave off the old hag that lives here.”
From behind me I heard a familiar voice. “She’s not a hag. Quit being such a judgmental bitch.”
I turned to see Irma Tucker. I hardly recognized her without her shotgun up in front of her.
Charles stepped back. This was the only person on Earth I’d ever seen that could intimidate him. But if you asked him, he’d say it was only that he didn’t like her very much. My ass, she scared the shit out of him. I choked back a laugh.
“Irma, so nice to see you again.”
“Ain’t either.” She swiped her arm in front of her to indicate the burning house. “You just trouble. Trouble be your middle name?”
I wanted to correct her, but to be honest, she scared me a little, too.
“I know you own this property. Did you know Alyssa and Jeff well?”
“They paid their rent. What else is there to know?” She walked past us, up the hill to the fire.
We followed. A few steps back, but we still followed.
She turned on us. “What you still doin’ here? Git out! This ain’t your business.” She waved us away like an annoying fly. “Shoo.”
She waddled forward, pulling up the hem of her maxi-skirt so she wouldn’t trip. I could see she was wearing red Converse high tops, and tube socks that went up to her knees. The epitome of high fashion.
I’d won the cantankerous old lady over once, I could do it again. “I just wanted to be sure Alyssa and Jeff are okay.”
She stopped and turned on me. “How do you know them? And what were you doin’ here anyway?”
I started to answer when there was another explosion.
Irma jumped back and slammed into me. I grabbed her around the middle to keep her from hitting the ground, and my back nearly gave out, as she’s not a petite woman. I could feel the folds of fat under her plaid blouse. She splayed her legs and I could see a track of varicose veins trailing up her legs as her maxi-skirt went askew.
She dug her high tops into the dirt as she righted herself and pushed me off balance. Nearly knocking the wind out of me, I tried my best not to let her know it hurt.
Charles was there to prevent a domino effect. He pushed me up and helped me regain my balance, then stepped back as if stung. I turned to see Irma glaring at him.
“If they wasn’t dead before, they sure are now.” Under her breath I heard her say. “Dumb asses.”
What the hell was that about? I’d think she’d be upset about their deaths.
“All the fucking insurance bullshit…” She trailed off.
“Excuse me?” I said, hoping beyond hope she’d elaborate.
She looked at me sideways. “Go away.”
Charles grabbed my hand. “Let’s go. There’s nothing else to do here.”
He was right. I followed his lead and went back down the driveway toward my car. I grabbed Lola by the collar before we crossed the street and when we got to my car, I bent down and kissed her on the lips.
“My savior. You are the bestest dog in the whole wide world.” I kissed her again.
Charles watched the spectacle without comment. I looked up at him and hugged him. He tolerated it for a few seconds, before he pushed me away.
“What’s going on?” He grabbed Lola’s collar and steered her toward the open back window of the car. “Load up.”
Lola defied gravity and leapt back into the car without so much as touching a toenail on the window sill.
I wasn’t sure where to start, so I started at the beginning. I explained the explosion, Lola and Wanda, George, and when I got to Irma, he put his hand up.
“I told you it was not a good idea to take that woman’s money.” He wagged his finger at me as if I was a child.
Suddenly there was a cacophony of shrilling sirens as several law enforcement vehicles turned onto the street.
It must have been a slow crime day in the county, because by the time Charles finished chastising me, there were multiple CHP, county sheriffs, and even a few Salinas Police Department vehicles blocking the roads. We wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.
Two fire engines were already on the scene, the firefighters dressed in full fire suits and helmets. They jumped off the trucks and worked in unison, like synchronized swimmers, each performing their specified tasks.
On the truck nearest us, one firefighter lifted the side compartment of the truck and began pulling rolls of fire hose from inside.
Another firefighter, a woman, pulled some sort of plumbing unit, and together they assembled the apparatus to connect to the fire hydrant. The woman connected the sections of hose, and a third firefighter grabbed the hose, put the end over his shoulder and ran toward the burning house.
I leaned against my Land Rover and watched as rescue workers and law enforcement moved about like worker bees. It didn’t take long to get the fire under control and soon the entire process was working in reverse as they loaded the hoses back up on the trucks.
I wanted to leave, but I wanted to stay, being the nosy chick that I am. Charles, on the other hand, was freaking out and pacing as he made phone call after phone call. I only heard about a quarter of his conversations, but realized one of his calls must have been to Nick, because I didn’t know of any reason Nick would be a the scene of a fire, yet here he was.
My heart did the happy dance as I saw his Crown Vic pull into view. Yes, even though I was avoiding intimate moments, I still loved seeing his face, looking at his body, inhaling the smell of him. Oh, I could go on and on.
Even though we’d been dating for a while, I still swooned when I saw him. His dark wavy hair always looked mussed but sexy, and his gray eyes were piercing against his mocha skin. Dressed in tan khakis and a navy polo shirt, he wasn’t the epitome of fashion, but his body was so hot, who was looking at the clothes anyway?
I grinned at him as he approached. Then I looked past him to his partner, Piper Mason. The sinewy blonde was wearing black slacks and a navy polo, which I realized was police issue, because as she got closer, I could see the logo. Nick’s logo was hidden behind his “homicide” jacket, which was slung over his shoulder.
Piper spoke first. “If it isn’t my favorite man on Earth.”
Nick looked at her and said, “What about me?”
Piper rolled her eyes, then walked up and gave Charles a hug.
Charles didn’t even flinch. For some reason, Piper could do no wrong as far as Charles was concerned. Any other woman tried to hug him, and he’d find a way to keep her at arm’s length, or become so stiff the woman would feel the chill and b
ack off.
After kissing Charles on the cheek, Piper turned to me. “Lovely to see you again.”
Her graceful manner made me jealous. Not because she was Nick’s partner and got to see more of him than I did, but because I wanted to move like her, like a mermaid through the water.
“Good, you got my message. Can you please get me out of here?” Charles pointed to his blocked Toyota.
“What message?” Nick asked.
“To come talk some sense into these morons, so I may leave.” Charles nodded his chin toward the police officers blockading the road.
Piper touched Charles’s arm in sympathy. “We’re here to check out the scene with the fire inspector.”
I looked at Nick, puzzled.
“There may have been people in the building at the time of the explosion,” Nick said.
“There were,” I volunteered.
Nick grabbed me by the arm and walked me away from Piper and Charles. “Why exactly are you here?”
“I was watching the house.” I jerked my arm away from him. “One of the people in that house was paying me to watch her husband today.”
Nick shook his head. “Only you.”
“Only me what?”
But I knew what he was talking about. He’d already seen me at the scene of three murders, so he probably assumed this was just par for the course.
“I can’t talk about this now. I have to get in there and see what we can find.” He started to walk away.
This time I grabbed his arm. “Hold on. You can’t say something like that, making me feel bad, and then just walk away.”
“We’ve had this property under surveillance for weeks. The man living in that house is a C.I.” He sounded exasperated.
“A confidential informant? But he’s a druggy.”
“Exactly.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ll talk more about this later. I’ll need to know what you saw this morning.”
I told him everything that had happened and asked, “Do you think they were cooking meth?”
“I don’t think anything.”
What a Meth Page 3
