My ears went hot as I clung a little tighter to Higgs’s arm. “Blonde woman?” I blurted.
She raised a gnarled finger in the air, her pink curlers bobbing against her head. “Yeah. Mickey’s girlfriend, I think. They were always fighting about something in there, and she was always leaving in a huff. But she always came back, and then they did it all over again.”
“Oh, heavens. How awful for them. I don’t know what I’d do if me and my Merle were always at each other’s throats, “ I murmured, leaning forward toward her in conspiratorial fashion. “Did you hear what they were fightin’ about?”
She pointed to her ear under a purple curler where her hearing aid sat. “Didn’t have my ears on most times, but I try not to pay any mind to other people’s business anyway. I only know she was always slamming doors and stomping off. I felt bad for poor Mickey. He deserved a nice girl.”
I pouted and sighed. “How sad for Mickey and…?”
“Melissa? Patricia? Something like that,” Mrs. Upton said. “Like I told ya, I can’t hear all that well, so I don’t know for sure what her name was, and I keep to myself. Anyway, I have to get inside. It’s almost lunchtime, and Hoda and Kathie Lee are on my DVR, waiting on me and a tuna sandwich. Nice meeting you two lovebirds.”
I held my hand out to her again and smiled. “Pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Upton. You take good care now, ya hear?” She shook my hand before tottering off down the hall to her apartment, her slippers clapping against her heels.
I tugged on Higgs’s arm and pulled him down the hallway, pressing the button for the elevator.
When the elevator doors popped open and we were safely inside, I made a face at him while I fought a laugh. “You do the worst southern accent ever. Fella? Reeeal nice fella?”
Higgs snickered. “Excuse me, Miss Happier Than A Clam at High Tide. What was that all about?”
I rolled my eyes at him, leaning back against the elevator wall. “I read it in an article about southern sayings somewhere. I can’t remember where. But at least I sounded southern. You sounded like a dying Steel Magnolia.”
“Did I, honeybuns?” he mocked, adding an extra comical twang to his question.
“You sure nuff did, sugarplum. But no matter. Now we have proof Nissa was at Dr. Mickey’s—which means we have our first official suspect.”
Higgs held out his fist as we hit the lobby. “You have an uncanny way of getting people to talk to you, almost without saying a word,” he praised. “Nice work, Detective Lavender. Very nice work.”
Chapter 12
“Miss Lavender?”
Both Higgs and I turned around at the shout-out of my name to find Dr. Fabrizio, his face lined with grief, his eyes dull and threaded with red.
We were just about to step off the edge of the sidewalk, preparing to head to the next street over where my car was parked, when Dr. Fabrizio popped up out of nowhere.
He made my heart ache. He was always so happy, just like his partner Dr. Mickey. To see him so defeated and washed out left my heart hurting for him.
I held out my hand and took his, giving it a warm shake. “Please, call me Trixie, Dr. Fabrizio, and I know asking a question like this may seem shallow due to the circumstances, but how are you? Are you holding up all right?”
He looked down at me, forlorn, almost lost. Though, despite the rain, his suit was crisp, his hair slicked back and neat—just like the Dr. Fabrizio we’d come to know.
He drove his hands into his dark brown trousers, the crisp lines down the front of them perfectly straight. “I think I’m still in a state of shock, Trixie. I go though these periods where I’m numb, and then it hits me all at once and I almost double over from the loss. It was just so sudden.”
Higgs held out his hand, too, his handsome face full of empathy. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Dr. Fabrizio. Dr. Mickey was an important part of our community, and we’ll really miss him at the shelter. I’m sure glad we still have you.”
Dr. Fabrizio gave him a wan smile. “Thank you, Cross. I’ll try and pick up the slack where I can. I just need to get my feet back under me. I hope it’s all right if I take a bit of time off. But I promise, I’ll be back and better than ever in Mickey’s stead as soon as I can.”
Higgs shook his head and held up a hand. “Please don’t even think about it. The guys at the shelter are going to love you. They’ll happily wait.”
Gosh, I felt so awful for him. Under the gloom of the bruised gray and purple sky, the lines of his face were more pronounced, the sadness in his eyes crystal clear. “I know you and Dr. Mickey were friends a long time. Is there anything—anything at all—I can do to help?”
His eyes held mine for a moment before he looked down at his feet, clad in shiny black shoes. “You’re very sweet, Miss Lavender, but is there really anything anyone can do at this point other than figure out who killed my friend?”
I didn’t have an answer to that. There really wasn’t anything anyone could do to ease his pain. That was true, and I didn’t want to make it worse by asking him questions about Dr. Mickey and his death. Especially after Amber and Nadia had said he might frown on me poking around.
Driving my hands into the pockets of my puffy vest, I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. It’s just something we say when we don’t know what else to say, I suppose. Forgive me.”
His sigh was ragged, his eyes haunted. “I’m sorry. That was crass of me, and it’s the second time I’ve behaved poorly where you’re concerned. My apologies, Miss Lavender. I seem to have forgotten my manners.”
I held up my hands. “Not necessary. I understand completely.”
He gave me a half smile and looked around, craning his neck. “What brings you to this neck of the woods, Miss Lavender? Isn’t your shop by the shelter? Do you live around here?”
Higgs looked over the top of Dr. Fabrizio’s head, giving me the signal that I should let him answer. The funny thing about our relationship was, we really understood each other without words—even after knowing each other for such a short time.
Higgs gave Dr. Fabrizio a pat on the back. “We were just leaving the guitar shop.” He stabbed a finger over his shoulder at a shop called Strings and Things. “I wanted to show Trixie a guitar I’m considering purchasing.”
Dr. Fabrizio’s dull eyes lit up. “Do you play, Cross?”
Higgs chuckled and shook his head. “Play is probably not the right word. An interested novice is more like it.”
Dr. Fabrizio bounced his head almost with enthusiasm. “Used to play in a band in college. If you ever need some advice on what to buy as a beginner, let me know. I’d be happy to offer you some.”
Higgs smiled and leaned into Dr. Fabrizio as though he had a secret. “How do you feel about Strings and Things? Have you been inside? Good prices, or are they taking me for a ride?”
Dr. Fabrizio laughed, and it was a nice sound after his oppressive sadness. “You’ll love Jarred—he owns the shop. Smart, albeit young; well-informed, knows what he’s talking about.”
“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind if I decide to buy. Hey, do you live around here, Dr. Fabrizio? Know the area? We’re looking for a good place to have lunch. Both Trixie and I are new-ish to Cobbler Cove, and still learning about all the things to do and places to eat. Suggestions?”
I nodded vigorously at the idea. “That would be great. I haven’t been this deep into Cobbler Cove since we moved into the shop. ’Course, it always feels like I’m at the shop these days,” I said on a laugh.
Clearing his throat, he looked back down at his shoes. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t know this area very well, either. I live in Beaverton. Michael lived in that building there.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’m only here to grab a suit for Michael…for his funeral, you know.”
“Have they released his body?” I blurted the words out before I could stop myself. I could have kicked myself for being so insensitive, but I couldn’t imagine the coroners were done with Dr. Mickey yet. It had on
ly been three days.
“Not yet, unfortunately, but I hope they will be soon. He had… That is to say, he has no living relatives. Still, he deserves a proper burial. Unless I hear from his lawyer that his wishes were different, I plan to give him that burial. There are so many in the community who want to honor him. I’d like to give them the chance to do so.”
I smiled again in sympathy, my throat tight. “You’re a good friend, Dr. Fabrizio, and I do hope you’ll consider letting me know if you need anything at all, but we’d better be on our way for now. Be well.”
I hooked my hand through Higgs’s arm and pulled him away before I cried on the spot and made everything worse than it already was.
Higgs tugged on my fingers wrapped around his forearm and asked, “Hey, you okay?”
I shook my head, my eyes misting up. “I’m fine. I just couldn’t bear to think about how sad Dr. Fabrizio is and how he’s kind enough to plan a funeral for his friend without anyone asking him to do it. He’s a good guy.”
“That he is,” Higgs agreed quietly.
Swiping my index finger under my eye, I sighed. “So, at least we have a little something in the way of clues.”
“We do. We have the necklace, Trixie, and a possible affair with Nissa. That’s not a little something. It’s pretty big.”
I pinched his biceps and pulled away, a little discouraged. I’d been here before, thinking I had some huge revelation that turned out to be nothing. I was going to remain skeptical until told otherwise.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better. It’s probably just as you said. Dr. Mickey bought it for his mother from his receptionist. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“But what about the arguments Mrs. Upton heard with Patricia? Patricia sounds an awful lot like Nissa.”
Hope sprang in my heart again. “True…”
“Well, we won’t know for sure until we ask, will we?”
“We?”
He stopped in front of an antiques store, pulling me under the awning. “Well, yeah. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Let’s go find Nissa Lawrence and see if we can get her to tell us if she was fooling around with Dr. Mickey.”
“I wish we could have asked Dr. Fabrizio. Who better than your best friend to confide in?”
“Ah, but if he was having an affair with Nissa, and she’s married, maybe he wouldn’t tell Dr. Fabrizio anything—in order to protect her.”
“Would you tell your best friend if you were having an affair with a married woman, Higgs?”
His face went hard and serious, the lines of his jaw like granite. “That would never happen—no matter how attractive. I don’t date married women. Period. And if I found out she was married after I’d met her and dated her, it would be over so fast it’d make her eyeballs cross.”
I fought a smile. Good to know. Though, it sounded like Higgs might have some experience with the subject. Definitely a topic for another day.
“Oh, nice diversion there, by the way,” I complimented.
“I just kept thinking it was a little too coincidental for us to be right in front of Dr. Mickey’s apartment. So I did a little improv of my own, Miss Southern Belle.”
I giggled. “So, do you really play the guitar?”
He snorted and shook his head. “I couldn’t play a musical instrument if my life depended on it. I’m just an avid music fan.”
“Hey, did I tell you that Dr. Mickey said something to Amber about the Organ Grinder?”
He scoffed. “That again? I thought we’d established it was a Cobbler Cove myth?”
“Well, we had, until someone other than my left-of-center buddy Solomon brought it up. Amber has all her faculties, and she said Dr. Mickey told her it might be true. Though, the police didn’t appear to take her very seriously. At least not according to her.”
His raven eyebrow rose in question. “Can you tell me over lunch?”
“Are you hungry again? Didn’t you just have breakfast?”
Higgs patted his stomach and chuckled his deep laugh, the one that always made me secretly smile. “Always, and I don’t know if you realized this, but it’s almost noon.”
“Fine, but it has to be something green. You need some green in your life, Higgs.”
“Do they make green cheeseburgers?”
I barked a laugh at him and wrinkled my nose. “You’re going to be the death of me.” My phone beeped with an incoming text, and I held up a finger as I dug it out of my back pocket.
As I read the text from Coop, my heart began to race, and I’m sure the blood drained from my face.
“Trixie? What’s wrong?”
I inhaled deeply, trying not to panic. “Griffin’s missing.”
* * * *
I burst through the doors of Inkerbelle’s to find Detective Primrose and the new crabby detective were already there, listening and nodding at Coop, who was apparently interpreting for an inconsolable Solomon.
The moment he saw me, he ran at me. Not toward me, mind you—at me, skidding across the floor and nearly knocking me over. If not for Higgs bracing me, I might have fallen, the force of his lunge was so fierce.
Now, as established, Solomon isn’t a touchy-feely guy. He’s not even a brush-against-you-by-mistake kind of guy, so for him to head straight for me and reach out meant something was horribly wrong.
When he grabbed my arm, he dug his fingers into my flesh, his hand trembling.
“Solomon? What happened?”
“Seems the kooky guy here wants to report a missing person,” Detective Griswald said, looking down his scarred nose at me.
Instantly, I didn’t like him. It wasn’t just that he’d called Solomon kooky, which he most certainly was not, it was his whole sneering, leering vibe.
So I set Solomon behind me, who clung to me like Saran Wrap, and held up a hand. “Excuse me…Detective Griswald, is it? I take offense to you calling Solomon kooky. Please refrain from using that kind of terminology when referring to him in my presence, or even when you’re not in his presence.” I followed that up with my stern nun eye.
But Detective Griswald wasn’t buckling; he gave me a sterner look, using his size to intimidate by hovering over me, his wide nostrils flaring, his coffee breath puffing in my face. “I should have known you were one of those sensitive PC types, you being a nun and all.”
So listen. I’m not exactly intimidating—not by a long shot—but I am scrappy, and the heck I was going to allow this big, insulting hulk of an ignoramus push me around and call me some kind of pansy for being sensitive to Solomon’s feelings, whether I was a nun or a stripper.
I’m not often angry, but this man set me on fire in all of two seconds flat. I rose on tiptoe and barred my teeth. “I don’t think I’m being one of those sensitive PC types when I suggest you treat another human being like a human being, Detective Griswald.”
Now he grinned, and it was ugly. Wide and toothy and coffee-stained ugly. He looked to Higgs for affirmation when he said, “Feisty little one, isn’t she?”
Aw, man, I was so close to clocking him one, I had my fist already clenched. But Higgs intervened, grabbing my hand and setting me and Solomon behind him.
Higgs, unlike me, was taller than the detective, and he let him know it by hovering over him in the same way the detective had hovered over me. “Pipe down, Griswald. Not okay to insult the taxpayer. Especially when the taxpayer is a friend of mine. Back up. Now.”
Immediately, Detective Griswald backed up, but his eyes were narrowed in ire. “My apologies to you and your…friend,” he muttered with another one of those condescending sneers, making me grunt, I was so infuriated.
Tansy stepped in, her eyes flashing all sorts of messages to Griswald—angry messages, were I to guess. “Griswald, stop being an insensitive buffoon, you nonce. Go wait in the car, yeah?” she ordered, using a finger to point to the door.
He made a face and threw up his hands, making his trench coat flap at his sides. “Whatever, Primrose. I onl
y have a few months and then I’m outta here. I don’t have to take this crap from her or you much longer.”
Tansy lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze at him, clearly accustomed to his behavior. “Ah, but until then, you have to take my crap because I’m your superior. Pity that, eh? Me being a lowly woman and such. Surely you’ll have cooties before the day is through. Now off with you, before I personally see to it you have to gum all those donuts you cram down your gullet.”
He narrowed his eyes right back at her, but stomped off to the door, pushing it open with a hard thrust and letting a gust of chilly air sweep the interior of the shop.
Orange-and rust-colored leaves blew over the threshold in his absence, but the atmosphere in the room was somehow less tense.
Sighing when he was gone, Tansy looked to me while Solomon still violently trembled behind me. “My deepest apologies, Trixie. I can’t tell you what’s up Griswald’s bum, but it’s certainly wedged in there tight, innit?”
I snorted a laugh as my body relaxed enough to reach behind me and grab onto Solomon’s clammy hand. “Not your responsibility. You don’t have to apologize for him.”
“Unfortunately, he’s mine until he retires, and how he behaves reflects upon me. Neither here nor there—it won’t happen again. And to you, Solomon,” she nodded her blonde head in his direction, “my apologies as well. You’ll deal only with me from here on out.”
“So what’s going on here, Tansy?” Higgs asked, his face a mask of worry. “Griffin is missing?”
Coop came up behind Tansy with Knuckles in tow, and nodded her head. “If I may, Detective Primrose? Solomon came in here looking for you, Trixie. He was quite disturbed. When he couldn’t locate you, he became frighteningly distraught while he told me Griffin was taken.”
“Taken?” I squeaked, turning to face Solomon. I didn’t know how to approach this. I wasn’t sure if I should be doing my medieval speak or talking like a pirate. I was almost too upset to concentrate enough to pull it off, anyway. “Solomon, I need you to really focus for me, okay? It’s very important, and I promise I’ll stay right here, but I need your help to understand. Can you tell me what happened to Griffin?”
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