by Claire Kane
Blackjack Magic Murder
The Dead Ex Files – Mystery #3
By Claire Kane and Stan Crowe
www.breezyreads.com
Published by Breezy Reads, Copyright 2017
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
ONE
Lacey stood in the room, wishing for light, her pistol still smoking in her hand. On the floor lay the cooling corpse of a middle-aged man. A pool of blood grew around him, and Lacey felt sick. She dropped to her knees, staring at what she had just done.
“Lacey,” a man said behind her. Distantly, she recognized the voice of Victor St. John, her once-boyfriend turned partner in crime fighting while solving his own untimely murder. “Lacey are you al—” He stopped short, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw him gaping at the dead man. After a long moment, he turned to her, eyes shining with concern.
“Lacey,” he said gently, placing his immaterial hands on her shoulders, a comforting gesture even if she couldn’t feel it, “it’ll be best to turn yourself in. Just tell the cops the truth I can already see in your mind. Trust me,” he said, leaning forward, “it’ll be better this way.”
A second later, a door was kicked open, and a pair of police officers rushed in, weapons drawn. “Metro PD! Hands where we can see ‘em!” Lacey slowly raised her hands, and quietly began to cry.
It was the first time she’d ever killed another human being.
Three Days Earlier
The trip to the mall had been invigorating, a great distraction from the doldrums Lacey had been in for nearly two months. It was the closest thing Lacey could get to an exciting vacation, but inside, she longed for something far from Seattle. Somewhere with superb entertainment, sight-seeing and food. But exotic vacations took money, and even with a pair of high-profile murder cases under her belt, she still lived in a rundown apartment. Her fantasies would have to be written on a sticky note in the back of her mind.
Steering her grandmother’s wheelchair through the mall exit, a small shopping bag hanging around an elbow, Lacey checked her Apple watch. Nervousness creased her brow even though she’d planned the timing of their outing perfectly. Her target wouldn’t arrive for at least another twenty minutes. Her almond-shaped brown eyes narrowed, peering past the parking lot, at the streets in the distance. Yep, not in sight.
Lacey turned the wheelchair right, and sipped her frothy latte as she strolled comfortably down the sidewalk. Nainai smiled at the puffy white clouds drifting above, her wrinkled hands lightly clasped on her lap’s blanket. The sound of air brakes in the distance caught Lacey’s attention. She looked up to see a red semi-truck had stopped at a light with a soft screech. The sight woke Lacey like an alarm. “What? He’s early!” Lacey’s walk turned into a harried scramble.
She couldn’t make out the man’s features from that far away, but this was his route and so it’d definitely be him. She knew drivers could be early, but morning traffic should have held him up more than it had. Maybe his stops had been exceptionally short this morning? Either way, she had no time to think about that.
Pitching her coffee into a trash can with a small splash, she took off at a jog, pushing Nainai. The light breeze of Seattle’s February air chilled her cheeks as she went. Her eyes shifted between mall traffic, the sidewalk ahead of her, and the semi as it turned into Northgate Mall’s parking lot. Jogging wasn’t going to cut it. “Hang on, Nainai,” she said, launching into a sprint and cursing her black high heels as they pinched her toes. Mental note: Buy cute sneakers for instances like this.
With a grace born of practice, Lacey wove between morning shoppers, calling out apologies as she barreled down the sidewalk. Nainai threw her hands in the air, and gave a squeal of delight even as her wheelchair bounced over sidewalk cracks that jostled her old bones. Rounding a corner, the women nearly collided with a couple affectionately holding hands. With no time to think, she called a warning, and let go of Nainai’s chair, then dove into a roll. The stunned couple barely whipped their arms up in time for Nainai to zip past beneath them, followed by Lacey artfully somersaulting behind her. Lacey stumbled to her feet, nearly tripping on her heels but lunged forward just in time to grab Nainai’s wheelchair and keep it from launching off the curb and into traffic.
Rushing forward again, she blew past a hefty woman in the parking lot, who paused in the middle of unloading her kids from a minivan to give Lacey a drop-jawed scowl. “Slow down!” the woman barked.
“Make me!” Lacey blurted loudly back, surprising herself. Yes, it was juvenile, but in this case, she didn’t care. There was no room for failure, this morning.
Up ahead, the truck turned down the lane between department stores. Lacey scanned the area. Ah! A shortcut! She took a breath and dashed forward again, angling for an alley she hoped led to the loading dock.
“What are we doing over here?” Nainai asked as they slowed to a stop in the mouth of the alley. “Are you lost?”
“No,” Lacey said, grimacing. “This is a quick detour.” Biting her lip, she wondered how to avoid notice when the truck arrived. She didn’t dare risk being seen—not after the disastrous end to her last PI gig, two weeks ago. She didn’t have the cover of night, nor was it cold enough to justify scarves over their faces. Pretending to be “lost shoppers” wouldn’t sell well, either. Her best hope was to stroll casually. She’d walk close, but not too close. Daylight. Old lady in wheelchair. Young, Asian woman, dressed well. What wasn’t to trust? Oh, maybe the fact that I look like I just commando crawled across the parking lot? Whatever. Discreetly taking pictures of him would be the real tough part.
Lacey peered down the alley at the loading dock. Two men were tearing down pallets. She anxiously brushed the camera dangling around her neck, holding her breath as the tail end of the semi appeared around the corner. Less than a minute later, the truck hissed to a stop and the driver jumped down from the cab. Yes. He fit the description exactly: mid-forties, fit, no facial hair. And surprisingly handsome. She raised her camera, zoomed in, and snapped a picture. The driver tugged on a red ball cap and began speaking to the dock workers. First violation—hazard lights not turned on. She snapped another picture.
“What are we doing?” Nainai complained. “I was having so much fun.”
Keeping her eyes coolly fixed on the driver, Lacey took another shot. “I’m following a guy, so be very quiet.”
Nainai’s wrinkled face scrunched in disapproval. “Is this what you’ve resorted to?”
“What?” Lacey lifted her camera and adjusted the lens to get a clear view of the driver’s feet. Second violation—no work boots. Her shutter clicked again.
“Your ex-boyfriend died, and so now you feel the need to stalk men for dates?”
Lacey was too distracted to hear the comment. The driver glanced in their direction, but looked away just as quickly, and proceeded to the back of the truck. Feeling bold, Lacey rolled
her grandmother down deeper into the alley, toward the back-end of the trailer. She only needed to get a couple more shots, and she could wrap up this job and bring in a much-needed paycheck.
Parking Nainai’s wheelchair, she used the clanging of the truck’s rear doors opening to cover the sound of her creeping toward a stack of crates near the rear of the trailer. She peeked around them, confident in her cover. The driver and warehouse workers rolled a pallet jack from the loading ramp into the trailer and disappeared.
Lacey inched out of hiding, keeping her camera hidden in the folds of her yellow scarf. She hastily studied the area around the trailer. Aha! Third violation: no cones. She pressed the shutter release again. And… done. Something inside made her pause. She lifted her lens for one, final, establishing shot to help frame the whole scene.
Without warning, her target emerged with a fully-loaded dolly.
The man’s eyes caught hers, and he perked up instantly. “Hey!” he called, angry. “What’re you doin’?”
Lacey stuffed the camera back into her scarf and strode over to Nainai. She pushed her wheelchair without looking back, and hurried to round the corner back toward Macy’s. Maybe he’d just forget about it.
Nope.
Not moments later, the scuff of ragged sneakers echoed in the alley behind her. Her heartbeat quickened and she started to jog.
Nainai put her hands up again in exhilaration. “Whee!”
“Corporate send you?” he called out.
Lacey gasped at how quickly he was gaining on them. The alley was too tight to maneuver well, and they were still only halfway through. What to do? Mall security was nowhere in sight. Should she sprint again? Not in heels, again. Maybe she could try what little Chinese she knew? Make him think she was the stereotypical, awestruck Asian tourist with a camera? Yet, she hadn’t seen a psychological profile for the driver, and there was palpable menace in the set of his jaw and his aggressive stride. Who knew what weeks alone on the road might have done to his sanity? She wished she hadn’t left her gun at home.
Then she was out of time.
Lacey slowly turned her grandmother around, hoping the sight of the elderly woman would be appropriately disarming. Stepping slightly in front of Nainai, she gave her most innocent smile. “Oh. Hello. Were you talking to me?”
The driver loomed above her. Up close, she found he was the kind of man who looked better from a distance. “Why’re you taking pictures of me?” he demanded, reaching for the camera.
Lacey dodged gracefully, trying not to cringe at the brown stains between his teeth. A quiet part of her pointed out the irony of her worrying about his flossing habits during a time like this.
“I, uh,” Lacey stammered. “Well…” This was not the highlight of her investigatory experiences. Come on, Lacey, think!
The man narrowed his eyes and took another swipe for the camera. Lacey staggered backward, tripped on her heels and tumbled against the alley wall. The driver sneered and leaned in for a third attempt at Lacey’s Nikon.
“She has a crush on you and wants a date,” Nainai blurted. The man froze, mid-action, and turned puzzled eyes on the old woman.
“I know it’s pathetic,” Nainai continued, “how she followed you, and took pictures, and is as nervous as a schoolgirl now that she finally gets to talk to you, but she really is a lovely young woman. And,” she said, waving a knobby finger for emphasis, “she knows how to cook!”
“Huh?” The driver straightened, frowning in confusion. For several long seconds, his eyes alternated between Lacey and Nainai.
Lacey held her breath and nodded shyly, hoping she could play up the part Nainai had just given her. “Yes,” she said, finally finding words. “I, um, have seen you around town, making your deliveries and thought you were uh, you know... cute?” The words tasted terrible in her mouth, but at least the man had backed off, moving his stench to a safer distance.
She hadn’t gotten halfway through her sentence when, in a shimmer of light, Victor St. John materialized next to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused, sensing the confrontation.
Lacey resumed. “I, ah, I just… hoped to, you know, um... find you on Facebook. Somehow. So I was taking pictures in the meantime. Until I found you. On Facebook. Friends invite. Yeah.” She groaned inside. Please shoot me.
Victor’s eyes widened, shooting surprised glares between the truck driver and Lacey. “You like this guy?” He motioned at the driver. Instantly his mind linked to hers, via their connection made possible by heavenly means. “Oh,” he said with understanding.
Containing her own disgust, Lacey blinked and pressed her full lips together into a line.
“You… like me?” the delivery driver repeated, shoving a hand down the back of his work shorts, giving a scratch.
Victor cut in as if the man could hear him. “Not really. She’s still in denial of her feelings for a certain angel whom she still secretly desires.” He ran a transparent hand through his full head of transparent hair. “Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome.”
Lacey knew Victor was a tease, but was not in the mood for his jokes at the moment. “Yes,” she mustered a response for the delivery driver. “You are very… photogenic. Which is why I took photos. For Facebook.”
The man’s eyes lit up a bit. “Oh, okay. Well, I finish my route in a couple hours. Do you wanna go out to lunch or somethin’?”
“Yes,” Nainai said at the same time Lacey said no with an emphatic shake of her head.
That surprised everybody. Lacey hurriedly said, “I mean, you did kind of chase me like you were out to get me. And the reality of meeting you is… a bit overwhelming. I think I need some time to process all of this. I wasn’t expecting to meet you so soon.”
His eyebrows quirked. “But you admitted to stalking me…”
“No. Don’t even try convincing me.” Lacey put up a hand. “It’s better this way.” She turned back around and continued pushing her grandmother, hoping her excuse worked.
“Sorry, man,” Victor said to the shocked guy in empathy, though he knew he couldn’t be seen nor heard. “She’s a tough nut to crack. Trust me. I would know.”
Lacey exited the alley, then made a beeline for her Lincoln, leaving a befuddled driver in her wake. It was past time to earn her living in a less degrading way.
*
“If I get another job like that one,” Lacey said, angrily strapping on her seatbelt, “I swear I’ll crack!” Although Nainai sat beside her up front, her words were aimed at Victor, who rode in the back seat. Nainai figured as much. Lacey was grateful for her grandmother’s unusual ability to see supernatural things, from time to time.
“Well,” Victor said, “I’m glad you’ve finally woken up to your situation. It was hard to watch you be humiliated like that. Maybe you should have ignored the police chief’s idea?”
Lacey frowned. Not long after her work uncovering the “Model Murderer,” he summoned her to his office and suggested she could monetize her investigative prowess. The discussion was a wash, however. He commended her for her abilities, grit, and tenacity, but warned her of interfering in police business. In other words, it was a pat on the back mixed with a slap on the wrist. It was sufficient motivation all the same.
“Let me tell you,” she rattled on, “being a private eye is not as glamourous as it seems! Just last night, for a client who’d suspected her husband was cheating on her, I was hanging from a tree branch, peering in at a bedroom with binoculars. Turned out, he was cheating on her… with video games at his brother’s! Oh, and last week I had two workers’ comp cases. For one, I had to stalk some poor guy outside his home, taking picture of him trimming tree branches. And now, now I just busted a man for not putting out cones. Cones! These are not the kind of cases I’m used to.”
Victor tapped his chin. “I see what you mean. You’re used to dealing with drug dealers, murderers, and pimps?” Sarcastically, he added, “I have no idea why you’d miss any of that.”
La
cey turned to look over her shoulder. “Victor, I can’t help it. I crave something more meaningful in my life. If that means helping to investigate a murder, then so be it. When will the stars align? Forgive me, that’s a figure of speech. When will God give me the chance to do that again?”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Victor said knowingly. “Hey, I’ve gotta go for a bit. Heaven just pinged me. Probably just a quick chat. I’ll be back. I love you, beautiful!”
Lacey’s cheeks warmed slightly, but even as she said, “I wish you’d stop that, Victor,” she could tell he’d already disappeared.
Dropping her car into reverse, she eased out of her parking spot. Just then, a bright-red haired pedestrian in a blue cardigan and a ruffly, floral dress shirt, scuttled out of her way. Lacey pumped the brakes to avoid hitting the woman, then locked eyes with her. She immediately rolled down her window and smiled. “Cathy! Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there. I swear I wasn’t trying to run you over.”
The vintage-trendy woman waved excitedly. “Hey, you!”
Lacey shifted into park, put her foot on the brake and rolled down the window, beaming. “How’re things at KZTB? Do they miss me yet?” Lacey noted the pair of bulging shopping bags on Cathy’s arms, and added, “Just like you to take advantage of after-Christmas sales, even two months later.”
Through bejeweled cat-eye glasses, Cathy’s green eyes sparkled as she approached with a laugh. “A girl can’t pass up great deals. And yes, we missed you as soon as you quit. I certainly did. Speaking of which, how are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Honestly,” Lacey said, her smile dropping, “I really, really miss investigative journalism. Last night I had a dream that I was back at KZTB of all places, and that’s crazy, right?”
Cathy’s expression went from sympathetic to light-bulb-moment in a flash. “Hey, you know I’ve been promoted to Senior Editor—”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Lacey said, shaking her head. “How is that supposed to make me feel better? Although, I am happy for you. Congratulations.”
