His hands began to flap, his fingers flickering in the air as his feet began to soft-shoe across the floor, all signs he was about as distraught as he got.
He moved forward and backward, his eyes darting everywhere but my face. “He took him, Trixie! I saw him! He took Griffin. Poked him in the butt and took him. Just like Skinny told us they did—just like it!”
None of this was making any sense, but I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. “But I thought you didn’t know where Skinny was, Solomon?”
He shook his head, his Viking hat teetering wildly. “I don’t—I-I-I mean, I didn’t,” he stuttered. Then he began to clap his hand against the side of his head. “I’m getting confused, Trixie! I only know I saw what I saw today—right now!”
Okay, I had to rein this in before he tottered off to that place where I couldn’t reach him.
Gobstoppers!
I’m not sure why I thought of them, but I knew they’d soothe him. And suddenly, Knuckles was there with a handful, planting them in my palm and giving me a reassuring squeeze to my shoulder.
So I held them out to Solomon. “Look, Solomon. Gobstoppers.” He paused in his downward spiral enough that I was able to jump in and grab hold before it went any further. “Now, let’s slow down, because you can’t possibly eat a Gobstopper when you’re excited or you’ll get it stuck in your throat, right? And then you can tell me all about where Griffin went. But you have to take your time so we can find him, and then everything will be all right.”
Solomon shook so violently, when he went to retrieve the candy from my palm, he knocked most of them to the ground. But Knuckles scooped them up as though they were marbles and popped one from its plastic wrapper.
He held it out, keeping his tone soothing and low. “Here, guy. It’s red. Your favorite, right?”
Solomon dropped it in his mouth and bounced his head, taking deep breaths. “Good. I love Gobstoppers. They’re good. So good.”
I smiled warmly at him and reached out again, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing with light pressure. “I’m happy you like them.”
“Trixie?” he asked quite suddenly, his eyes hopeful.
“Yes, Solomon?”
“Will you hug me? My mother used to hug me. A-a-a long, long time ago, and I like you. You smell nice, just like she did.”
I didn’t have time to be surprised. I didn’t care that his request came out of nowhere. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring the fact that he smelled of week-old baloney and stinky cheese. I was honored. More than honored that Solomon trusted me enough to allow me to offer him solace.
“Of course. Of course, I will, Solomon.”
As he settled into me, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his mouth working the Gobstopper, he muttered, “He took Griffin. Just took him, Trixie. It was sooo scary.”
“Who, Solomon,” I whispered. “Who took Griffin?”
My heart throbbed in my chest, and even as I squeezed Solomon, I worried I’d lose my balance, my legs were shaking so much. Out of fear. I was afraid to hear Solomon’s answer.
His breathing had evened out now, and his body language said he wasn’t nearly as riled as he’d been. So I pressed forward with a gentle nudge. “Solomon? Who took Griffin?”
“The gorilla, Trixie. The gorilla took him.”
Chapter 13
I looked at Higgs over Solomon’s shoulder as I squeezed him a little tighter, a question in my eyes.
“Where did this happen, Solomon? Do you remember?” Higgs asked, his eyes wide and filled with concern.
But Solomon shook his head frantically, his Viking hat falling to the ground. “I can’t remember, Trixie! I can’t. I tried, but I can’t. I think he’s dead, Trixie. I think he’s dead!”
Solomon was winding up for another tangent, so I began to sway, keeping him close. “It’s okay, Solomon. It’ll come to you. Just eat the Gobstopper and think about other things.”
“Like turtles?” he squeaked.
Solomon had an affinity for turtles. He’d spent an entire afternoon explaining them to me when we shared some ice cream last summer. In fact, I’d taken him to the library so we could take out a book about them and read about the different species of turtles.
“Yes,” I soothed. “Like turtles. Remember you told me how you used to love to read about the sea turtles hatching in Mexico? Remember the really cool book we got at the library about it? Let’s think about that. A nice warm breeze and sand under our feet as we watch the turtles hatch and swim off to their new lives.”
His shoulders went soft when he said, “But some of them die. Just like Griffin.”
“But we’re not thinking about that right now, Solomon,” I soothed, keeping my tone even and soft. “We’re only thinking about the beauty of life and how wonderful it is on the beach in warm, sandy Mexico. Hear the waves? They’re preparing to take the turtles out to sea.”
As he nodded, and his entire body relaxed, he eased away from me, finally looking me in the eyes. “Will Griffin die? I like Griffin most times. He’s always nice to me. Sometimes he helps me get fresh bread for breakfast, and he always saves me a place in line at the shelter. I don’t want him to die, Trixie.”
I didn’t want him to die, either. But I fought the impulse to scream my fears and tried to remain calm.
I took a step back and searched his lined face, a deep worry rooting itself in my chest. “How about you tell me about the gorilla, Solomon? Are you sure you saw a gorilla? I know your eyes are sharp, but sometimes, when you’re tired or you’ve been using them too much, they play tricks on you.”
He nodded his head with a fury again, crunching on his Gobstopper. “It was a gorilla, Trixie. He came up behind Griffin and stuck something in his butt and then Griffin fell backward. The gorilla caught him and carried him into the alley.”
“Stuck something in his butt?” I repeated. “What, Solomon?”
He shrugged his shoulders, his loose coat hanging from his arms. “I think it was a needle. I don’t know. I don’t know,” he insisted. “It was hard to tell.”
“Okay, Solomon. You’re doing great. What happened next?”
“The gorilla took him to the alley.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “The alley?” I asked casually, cocking my head, almost as though it didn’t matter. “Which alley?”
Solomon looked down at his sneakers and tugged on his faded black track pants. “By the Hawthorne, where they’re always gettin’ in trouble with the policemen for building the fires in the barrel.”
“By the old paper factory,” Tansy murmured, her pen moving furiously over the pad she held securely in her hand.
“There’s no CCTV there, though,” Higgs mentioned in a hushed tone.
Shoot. We could really use some video footage. Not that seeing the gorilla would help identify him, but at least we’d know for sure if Griffin had been abducted.
Nevertheless, I moved forward. “Are you sure it was Griffin, Solomon? Was it dark out?” I asked, opening another Gobstopper and handing it to him.
Solomon wiped his arm across his mouth. “Nuh-uh. I saw perfect, Trixie. It was Griffin. He was so scared and yelling stranger-danger. So I hid, because then I got scared. I didn’t help him, and I feel so bad, but I was so scared.”
“Of course you were, Solomon. I get scared when there’s too much yelling, too,” Coop confirmed, making me beam with pride. She was becoming so kind and gentle, especially with Solomon. “Were you scared today? Is that when it happened?”
He shivered and looked straight at Coop. Oddly, despite Solomon’s simpatico with me, Coop was whom he made the most eye contact with. I often wondered if he sensed something about her no one else could see. If his diagnosis of autism was correct, it would stand to reason he’d be attuned to things the rest of us non-autistic folks would miss.
“It was still a little dark, but not that dark,” he answered. “Maybe early morning, like at five o’ clock when the trashman comes.
But I could see. I swear I could, Coop! I could see and then I hid. I hid for a long time, but my stomach started to growl and I had to eat. I got so hungry. Griffin would want me to eat, right?”
Solomon’s voice sounded so lost and fragile, I wanted to cry.
“Of course he would, Solomon. Griffin would never want you to be uncomfortable.” Coop paused a moment and took a breath, letting Solomon digest her words. “So you came here, right, Solomon? After you hid for a little while?” When he nodded, she nodded with him. “You did the right thing,” Coop assured him.
He bobbed his head and began to back away from us. “I did. I tried to do the right thing, Trixie! I came to tell you about Griffin. That’s why I’m here. I’m here, here, here!”
“Yes, Solomon,” I soothed. “You did the right thing. You’re very smart. Very smart. Now how about we get you some lunch and you take a break, okay?”
“I’m on it,” Knuckles offered, heading to the small fridge we had in the back of the shop where he kept leftovers and fixings for lunch. “Come with me, pal. I have egg salad and sourdough bread. Made it with you in mind.”
Suddenly, Solomon smiled as he skirted Knuckles’s tall frame. “But no soup. Trixie smells nice but her soup tastes like a garbage can.”
Knuckles barked a laugh, his eyes twinkling as he nodded. “No soup, bud. Promise. C’mon. Let’s go get you fed.”
As Solomon wandered with Knuckles, weaving a path to the back of the shop, I looked to Tansy. “I’m sick with worry about Griffin, Tansy. He’s a sweet man who’s just lost his way. If what Solomon says is fact—and I think I need to point out, he’s been right before, if not with a little embellishing from his dramatic portrayals—then someone has Griffin.”
The idea terrified me. Sweet, unassuming, gentle Griffin abducted. I couldn’t bear thinking he was alone and afraid—if he was even still alive.
If what Solomon said was true, maybe whatever the gorilla jabbed him with was as deadly as whatever the killer had used to off Dr. Mickey.
Tansy’s sigh was ragged and tired in response. “I promise you this, love. I’ll do everything in my power to find him or find out if anyone else saw something. I’ll have my guys out, asking the people under the Hawthorne. I assure you, unlike some, I don’t find the homeless population any less important than any other citizen. But you do realize how often they drift from place to place, don’t you?”
“That might explain Lazlo Reynolds, but not Griffin. He wasn’t a drifter, Tansy,” Higgs said.
Her head shot up. “Lazlo? Who’s this bloke, and how does he fit into this?”
Higgs folded his arms against his chest, his face grim. “I don’t know that he does. He just came to mind because he was part of the regular pack for a few months. Lazlo was another one of my guys. Anyway, we haven’t seen him in about two weeks, but he was always a drifter to begin with, truth be told. Suffers from PTSD, his family’s back in Washington. Though, I think he’s accounted for. Cal said he saw him get on a bus to Seattle. I’m hoping that means he went home.”
Tansy scribbled on her pad. “I’ll need to speak to Cal, then.”
Higgs nodded. “Of course. I’ll let him know.”
Which reminded me… “And what about Skinny?” I asked. “I don’t know if I told you, but at the Halloween party, both Solomon and Griffin were telling me they haven’t seen him in a while, either. They also said he told them he’d seen someone take one of the new guys’ insides out. Of course, they followed that with the notion the Organ Grinder had gotten ahold of Skinny.”
“Skinny’s a drifter, too, Trixie,” Higgs reminded me.
Still, that niggled at me. Yes, Skinny was on again, off again at the shelter, but all of a sudden, everyone was disappearing at once?
“Ah, yes,” Tansy murmured. “The infamous Organ Grinder. Indeed, I’ve heard the rumors.”
“From Amber, Dr. Mickey’s hygienist?”
“Have you been doing a little nosing around, Miss Lavender?”
Holding up my hands, I shook my head. “I never said a word. She mentioned it to me while you were questioning Dr. Fabrizio, and I asked her if she’d told you. She said she had.”
Tansy’s glance was skeptical, but she didn’t say anything else, which thankfully meant I didn’t have to tell any fibs.
However, this gorilla suit thing was killing me, and I think we all know how hard it is to contain me when I’m looking for answers. “So, a gorilla. Isn’t that what I’m hearing you guys have determined Dr. Mickey’s killer was wearing? A gorilla suit?”
Tansy’s eyes captured mine, sharp and piercing, but she had a half smile on her lips. “How are you hearing this, Detective Lavender? Telekinesis?”
“Is that like psoriasis?” I deflected as I offered her a seat on the sofa in the waiting area while Coop grabbed a place at the other end.
She sank down in the deep cushions, her eyes grateful as she took a load off and leaned back, looking around at the decor. “You girls have done wonders in here, Trixie. Well done, mate.”
“Well, thank you. Now, about that gorilla…”
Tansy’s lips thinned. “I can’t tell you anything about the gorilla, love. You know it and I know it, but I’ll send some officers out to the scene and have them give a poke around. How does that sound?”
I dropped down in the chair next to the couch and clapped my thighs with the palms of my hands. “That sounds like a job for Detective Woman-Hater. A dark, dirty alley should be right up his, don’t you agree?”
Oh, sheesh, I sounded bitter, but there was something about him beyond his rude label for Solomon that I didn’t like. He was arrogant, cocky, crude, and I guess I wasn’t above saying as such.
Tansy winked at me, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Right on, love. It’s a perfectly perfect job for him.” She paused, stuffing her small notepad back into the pocket of her navy blazer. “Look, I’m sorry about his poor behavior. He was sprung on me a couple of months ago. Quite by surprise, actually, and he’s a pain in my arse. But there was some kind of kerfuffle at his old post—”
“Hah!” I interrupted with a shout. “Did it involve his crass mouth and his attempts at intimidation with women?”
But Tansy shook her head, tucking her short blonde hair behind her ear. “I don’t know the details, love. I only know he’s close to retirement, they didn’t want him in California anymore, and we need the help here in Cobbler Cove. So, for the moment anyway, he’s my load of mess, but not for long. Not for long. I promise you that,” she muttered.
“He’s not very nice,” Coop commented, her expression blank, but her eyes were on fire. “I don’t like him at all. He grabbed Solomon by the back of his coat when Detective Tansy wasn’t looking to make him stand still, and he was none too gentle about it.”
My teeth clenched together in anger. “Did he hurt him?”
“No, but he frightened him. Is it any wonder the homeless population has a healthy fear of the police department?” Coop aptly observed.
“You’re a better person than I, Tansy,” Higgs said as he came to stand behind my chair. “By now, he’d have lost some teeth if I had to work with him.”
Tansy snickered and slid to the edge of the seat. “Violence is never the answer, Higglesworth. And my apologies. I’ll reprimand him,” she said, smoothing her skirt. “Now, do we think our friend Solomon might remember something else? Or shall I take my leave?”
I rose and sighed. “If he thinks of anything else, I’ll be sure to call you. How’s that?”
Tansy rose, too, brushing her hands down along her blazer. “Much appreciated, love. Until the next time?”
I smiled at her. “Well, I sure hope there won’t be a next time, Tansy. I’m up to my eyeballs in murder these days.”
“You and me both,” she joked.
“Speaking of murder, before you go, anything you’d care to share about Dr. Mickey’s murder outside of the uncanny mention of a gorilla suit in both his murder and Griffin’s disappear
ance? You know, me being a legend and all, maybe I can offer some help?” I teased.
She jabbed a finger in the air as she headed for the door. “You’re a hoot, Trixie Lavender. Positively a hoot. Maybe I should be asking if there’s anything you’d care to share?” she asked over her shoulder.
Higgs cleared his throat but I gave him the stink-eye and clenched my crossed fingers behind my back. “Nope. Not a thing.”
She gazed at me momentarily before she pulled the glass door open. “All righty then. Good day to you both.”
As she whisked out the door, Higgs gave me a nudge. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
I swung around to face him. “I am not. I don’t know that I have anything to share yet because we don’t know if the necklace we found at Dr. Mickey’s is actually Nissa’s necklace. You said that yourself, and surely they’ve canvassed his neighbors. If they didn’t find Mrs. Upton, who am I to tell them how to do their jobs?”
“Isn’t that a lie by omission, Sister Trixie Lavender?” he asked, a single eyebrow raised in question.
I shot him a cocky smile. “James 4:17, and I quote, ‘So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is a sin.’ First, the scripture talks about him. I’m not a him. I’m a her. Second, I’m not failing to do the right thing, Higgs. The right thing is to ask Nissa about the necklace before I sic the police on her. If it is her necklace, then I’ll sic the police on her. Until then, I’m omission-ing.”
He chuckled deep and rumbly. “Is that how you sleep at night, Sister Trixie? By reinventing the Good Book’s scripture?”
I gathered my purse from the counter and pulled my phone from my back pocket to text Amber and Nadia and ask about Nissa and a possible meeting. “It’s how half the world sleeps at night, Higgs. I learned that the hard way. Now quit stalling justice. Either you’re all the way in or you’re all the way out.”
House of the Rising Nun Page 12
