On Borrowed Crime

by Kate Young

  Calvin scratched his chin. “Anything else? Anything at all that could be helpful.”

  I considered. “Oh—wait!” I had missed something. “Val.” I sat forward. “She came by and dropped off a housewarming gift for them. I was furious with her for not giving me a heads-up. She had ample time while I was at her house for our meeting. Then, when Kevin approached me, I forgot all about it. Maybe she saw something.”

  “This would be the girl adopted by the Heinz family?”

  I nodded. “Valerie Heinz.”

  Val had been almost ten when she joined the Heinz family. The circumstances surrounding her adoption had been kept sealed. All we knew was that she’d lost her parents in some tragic accident, and the Heinzes, a couple up in age and without children of their own, had adopted her. It’d taken her a while to settle in here. Once she did, she’d become Miss Popularity.

  “Make sure to mention that to Officer Taylor when he follows up with you.”

  “Okay. Did Quinn ask about me?”

  Calvin raised his brows. “Have you begun seeing each other again?”

  “No. Forget it.” I lifted my hand, closed my eyes, and shook my head. “Quinn doesn’t owe me anything. Never mind. I’ll be sure to mention Val to Taylor.” I pasted on a smile.

  He scratched his chin. “If you want to take some time off, it’s okay with me. I could call the temp agency and have them send someone over.”

  “You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” I couldn’t hide the concern in my tone. “I’m fine, truly. Plus, I’d hoped that once I proved myself, you might consider making me a more vital part of the business.” I didn’t say “partner,” but had dreamed it. “I could even go back to school. I’ve been thinking about it,” I said, pleading my case.

  “No, I’m not getting rid of you. I’ve loved having you here, and you do a fantastic job. It’s just that Frances worries.”

  At the mention of Mother, I relaxed.

  “Before, I could reason with her. Now, with the gruesomeness of this case and your proximity to it—well, it’s a lot.”

  “But it has nothing to do with my job here. Our cases aren’t anything of the sort.” I spoke the truth.

  We handled missing persons, divorce investigations, child support, and background checks, plus corporate fraud investigations and workers comp. Sure, I’d imagined that once I learned the ropes, we’d expand to cases like the dumping grounds.

  “I know you’re right. And I’m not telling you what to do or how to live your life. I’m just saying you have options. You’re young, and you could choose another line of work—something that doesn’t stress you out as much.” Ah, stress—my mother’s favorite word when speaking to me about my choices.

  “May I speak?” I’d prepared for this moment, my carefully rehearsed diatribe at the ready.

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. You know my feelings and Mother’s differ. She’s concerned about me not being able to handle this line of work, mainly because she finds it revolting. But honestly, whether I work here or not isn’t going to change my goals.”

  I allowed a moment of silence to stretch between us. He needed to give my words some consideration for them to carry weight.

  “I respect your decency in wanting to honor your sister’s wishes and that you care about me. But these cases”—I tapped the open tablet with my index finger—“are what gets my blood pumping. I need to understand things—to find the answers to riddles laid out here. These people deserve to have their identity restored.”

  “Honey, I’m your advocate. I told Franny that despite your air of frivolity, you’re an intelligent young woman with a promising career ahead of her.” He perched on the edge of my desk. “I understand the need for answers—to close cases. Believe me. And maybe one day, we’ll have extra resources to offer pro bono services or even manage to get on the payroll with the state.”

  Music to my ears, and my face must have shown my feeling, because he pointed his finger at me and made direct eye contact. He softened his tone and nodded toward the tablet.

  “Digging into these types of cases shines a great big spotlight on the one holding the shovel. Those responsible won’t like it.”

  I swallowed hard and looked him square in the face. “It’s a scary world. I get what you’re saying. I’m fully aware of the risks. I’ll be careful. Now, allow me to be frank. If you decide to let me go, that won’t halt my desire to work in this field.”

  He shook his head and defensively lifted his hands as he stood. “Okay, okay. You’re right. The world is full of horrors. How does the quote go? ‘Hell is empty, and all the devils are here’?”

  I nodded.

  “I suppose I held out hope that in Sweet Mountain we’d effectively kept the demons at bay. It’s your life and your decision, and I won’t get in your way.” He stretched. “You’re a grown woman and should be allowed to make your own decisions. But promise me you’ll be extra cautious and on alert at all times. Vigilance is the key until the perp is apprehended.”

  “That I can promise.” I held out my hand, and he took it. “And I’ll also promise to keep the frills to a minimum. No pink poufs or lacy tutus will grace the interior of this office. Ever.”

  He let out a deep belly laugh that coaxed a grin from me as he shook my hand. “You are more like your mother than you know, kid.”

  Ouch.

  Chapter Eight

  When the police car pulled up in front of the building, I ignorantly assumed they were coming to talk to me. My heart hammered against my chest when I saw Mel coming out of Smart Cookie with Officer Taylor. My chair flew backward as I leaped to my feet and raced out the door. “What’s going on?”

  “Miss Moody, please take a step back.”

  Melanie had a bewildered expression on her face, and I searched her eyes. “This is all a stupid misunderstanding. Don’t worry. I’m just going down to the station to straighten this mess out.”

  “Mess? What mess?” God, I knew what mess. The discrepancy with her alibi.

  Mel’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. “It’s stupid. I’m an idiot. And Lyla, I don’t know how,” she whispered, “but he said the bag is mine.”

  Her words literally knocked the wind out of me.

  The crowd around the Smart Cookie grew. Teresa had her hands on her hips. “This is outrageous. Don’t say a word, Melanie, until I call you a lawyer.”

  Melanie’s face reddened as gasps went up from the crowd.

  Officer Taylor opened the back door, and Melanie willingly slid onto the seat. “Now I need everyone to just back up!” he said as he moved around the car.

  “I’m coming with her. Does she need a lawyer?” I asked.

  “Not if she tells us the truth, and I would advise you”—he pointed at me—“to stay put. I’ll be in touch when we want to speak to you again.”

  Uncle Calvin stood behind me and encouraged me to heed the officer’s advice. Trusting him and not wanting to make matters worse for Mel, I agreed. But I glared furiously as he climbed into the front seat, hit the siren a couple of short times, and people cleared out of his way.

  * * *

  As I washed my hands, I stared at myself in the mirror of the small powder room and frowned at my appearance. I could hear my mother’s voice: “Lyla, honey, you look pale. A little lipstick will help.” I liberally applied rose-colored lipstick, and, like magic, my eyes looked brighter and my face appeared more refreshed. There was no denying it. Mother was absolutely correct. A pop of color could be a girl’s best friend.

  “Lyla!” Daddy’s commanding baritone voice made me jump. Daddy was standing in front of my desk, next to Calvin, when I emerged from the powder room. My father stood an inch or two taller than Calvin but weighed less. Daddy was fairer than me, but not nearly as fair-skinned as Gran. He wore brown slacks that matched the shade of what hair he had left, and a button-down green shirt—his usual attire for work.

  Now I prided myself on my resolve
and my ability to face controversy with my head held high. I was an independent woman. But the second I saw my daddy, my eyes welled up with tears. I’d not mourned my friend Carol appropriately yet, and now Mel had been taken in for questioning. He opened his arms to me, and I went in for a hug. Being enveloped in my father’s arms caused the dam to break, and I sobbed openly.

  “I’ll give you two a minute. Holler if you need me. I’ll be in my office,” Uncle Calvin said, and a moment later, we heard his office door click shut.

  “My little Lylabug. You’ve experienced a great shock.” Daddy patted my back, and I rested my head on his chest, taking a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. He smelled of Irish Spring soap and faintly of aftershave. “I’m here. I’m sorry I didn’t get home before you went to bed last night. Your mother neglected to call me until late, and I should have checked one of your grandmother’s three voicemails.”

  I sniffed and turned to pull a couple of tissues from the box of Puffs on my desk. I dabbed the tissues under my eyes. “I’m okay.” I would be okay. “Mel—”

  “Calvin told me. Don’t worry. I’m perturbed with him, and you should have waited until I called William before you spoke with the police.” Daddy shook his head as if concerned for my ability to make a sound judgment call. “It never hurts to have representation when the police are involved. Especially when the body was found in your townhouse.”

  “Calvin knows what he’s doing. There was really no need for an attorney. I’ve not been accused of anything. They’re still in the process of building a case, which is why my cooperation is so important. And you’re right. Surely this thing with Mel is nothing.”

  Daddy put his hand on my shoulder and leaned down. His nearly gray eyes fixed on my face. “Your mother said the woman was folded up inside a suitcase. You can’t be emotionally sound after witnessing your friend in such a condition.”

  I had a flashback, Carol’s limbs were crumpled up inside that bag. I blinked to hold back more tears.

  “We should sit down together. I can call and have Dr. Peters cover my patients.”

  I wiped my nose. “That won’t be necessary.”

  He tilted his head and glanced down his nose at me disapprovingly. “That isn’t a wise decision. And we understand how important our decision making is.”

  “Yes, Daddy. I haven’t forgotten.”

  He sure knew how to ignite a flame of irritation in me.

  I folded my arms.

  “Good. We also need to have a serious conversation about what comes next.”

  I cleared my throat. “Meaning?”

  Daddy’s phone chirped. He frowned when he read the text, and then pocketed the phone. “Meaning, this isn’t going to go away so easily. It’s going to make headlines. The press will be involved. I’ll call Quinn and see what he’s doing to get a handle on rumors and protecting your identity. I’ll inquire about Melanie as well.” Daddy appeared confident he would be able to control the narrative and drive the investigation. Being a man accustomed to others following him drove this thought process. He’d never been a part of a criminal investigation before, and I hated to tell him he had no pull when it came to the law or the press.

  “Later, when the perpetrator is apprehended, you’ll be subjected to a trial. Testifying in open court unless a deal is made.” He made a valid point. I hadn’t even thought that far. “It’s going to be difficult, and it’ll put your mother through hell.”

  My tears dried up as anger began to build. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I’ll be subjected to or how Mother feels. I’ll do what I have to. Carol is the victim here, Daddy, not me—and certainly not Mother.”

  “There isn’t anything we can do for that poor girl now, and it might be best for everyone if this case goes away quietly.”

  I took a step backward and sucked in a breath.

  Daddy softened his tone, “Lylabug.”

  “Are you that self-absorbed? Mother’s fear that this will somehow create a scandal around the Moody name is what concerns you the most? God, Daddy, how shallow.”

  The phone rang, saving me from more interaction that was swiftly speeding downhill. I cleared my throat as I walked around the desk, moving my tablet aside. “Thank you for coming by and checking on me, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

  I answered the phone. “Cousins Investigative Services. Hold, please.”

  Daddy spied the dumping ground pdf. My tablet must’ve opened via facial recognition when I’d moved it. I immediately flipped it over.

  “Lyla.” The man wasn’t the least bit bothered by my rant. “It isn’t about a scandal. Obsessive tendencies don’t just disappear. They’re a constant struggle.”

  Sometimes having a shrink for a father got old. “If you don’t mind, I’m working.”

  Daddy raised his brows and pierced me with his stern gaze.

  The phone rang again. “Cousins Investigative Services,” I said cheerily.

  “I need to speak to Calvin.” I recognized that voice.

  “Will you hold, please?”

  “No, I won’t. Put the man on now!” Judge Timms bellowed.

  “One moment.” I put him on hold, pressed the intercom button, and asked Calvin if he’d take the call, before I transferred it back to his office. I was glad to have something to do.

  “Can we talk about this later?” I fisted the tissue and squared my shoulders, willing my steadfastness into place.

  “Yes. Tonight. I’ll be home before nine. I strongly insist we talk about all of this. Will you commit to a conversation then?” Daddy would stand there all day if I didn’t.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Nine

  The Jane Does all sat in my parents’ family room. The timing had worked out because Mother and Gran were at their monthly Magnolia Ladies Society meeting. I had laid out a few reheated tapas. No one was particularly hungry, and most of the food went untouched except for the white-chocolate cookies Mel brought.

  When she’d showed up, I’d squeezed her until she gave a squeak of protest. I knew she wasn’t being detained; I’d pestered the front desk hourly until I received word Mel had concluded her interview. But I worried she wouldn’t feel like attending our meeting after her ordeal. Not that I blamed her. The others began arriving before she could get into what had transpired at the police department.

  Patsy, now on her third cookie, wiped the crumbs from her mouth. “I’m going to stop wearing gloss. Everything I eat sticks to my lips.” She glanced around. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you, Melanie. I’m a stress eater. Please, continue.”

  “It’s okay.” Mel finished giving everyone the lowdown on what the papers had left out. Everyone wanted to hear from her, since she’d just been taken in for questioning. Mel was handling it like a champ.

  “Let me get this straight.” Val resituated herself on the sofa to my left. “Someone murdered our Carol and stuffed her in a suitcase, then left her on Lyla’s front stoop?”

  Melanie and I both nodded.

  Val’s deep-blue eyes were wide. “And you thought it wasn’t yours, Mel, but it is.”

  “Yes.” Melanie chewed on her bottom lip. “Someone put a sticker over the luggage tag and wrote Carol’s name. And the bag had been pretty beat up, so I didn’t recognize it.”

  “Okay.” Patsy said slowly. “How is that possible if your luggage was lost.”

  Melanie lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea. The police said it was delivered the day before Lyla found it. But my alibi and security footage prove I wasn’t there when it was delivered.”

  All eyes turned to me. “I have no idea how to explain the delivery discrepancy because I can positively say that it was not delivered to me until the day I found it.”

  “It’s completely unfathomable.” Amelia kept shaking her head.

  “We know.” Mel and I said in unison.

  “Airlines make mistakes all the time,” I added.

  “They do. But what about the delivery scan from t
he airline? Was there a note? A plane ticket? Any evidence to either where she was going or where she’d been? Or whom she’d been with?” Val shot rapid-fire questions in my direction.

  “The scan is wrong. It has to be. And as to the note, not that I found.” I folded my legs underneath me.

  “That makes no sense at all.” Val kept shaking her head as if trying to make her brain find a pattern. “None.” She focused on Mel. “And the police took you in for additional questioning because of the bag?”

  “Surely they can’t truly believe you were responsible.” Amelia sounded deeply concerned.

  “That and…” Mel rubbed her forehead. “Listen, y’all. I made a colossal mistake. I … I actually got in the day before I showed up to pick up my keys from Lyla. The day the say the suitcase was delivered.”

  I held my breath as Melanie stared me straight in the face. “I feel like a total fool. I ran into Tim.”

  “Tim as in—”

  She nodded and blew out a breath. “As in the SOB who cheated on me. The man I divorced for ruining my life.” Mel hung her head. “He was coming down the terminal when I was beside myself in tears. I could blame it on lack of sleep, but I won’t. I went back to his place. I snuck out the next morning, reeking of alcohol. I couldn’t tell you.” She covered her flushed face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  I raced across the room and went to my knees in front of my friend, hugging her tight. “We all make mistakes.”

  “I … I didn’t think. And then Carol was there and—”

  I rubbed her back. “It’s okay. I’m sure now that the police know where you were, it’ll be fine.”

  She nodded, sat up, and wiped her face. “They said they’d talk to Tim to corroborate my account.”

  Amelia handed her a tissue from the box on the end table beside her. “Sure, honey. What you did wasn’t a crime.”

  Nods went around in unison.

  “Thanks, y’all.”

  A thought occurred to me as I retook my seat. “Val, did Carol mention anything to you about an inheritance?”