by Wendy Byrne
Since they were otherwise occupied, I felt comfortable enough to pull out the small pair of binoculars I kept in my purse for just such occasions and slid into a storefront corner. Maybe I'd get a hint of his identity.
When I zoomed in, I recognized my error. Because of his rough clothing and the droopiness of his shoulders, I'd made a giant and inaccurate leap. Disguises were disguises, but it was difficult to cover up some things. This guy was not a bum. Although I could see he'd been unshaven for a couple of days, through the binoculars it was clear to me that this man was not homeless. Super spy that I am, I immediately knew I'd seen this bum before, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where. And why he was playing kissy face with Mel was my very next question.
There was no doubt in my mind that he was up to his ears in this framing Nate thing. Call it gut instinct or Cleo's magic sauce of crazy, but I knew this guy and Mel were up to no good. Now I needed to connect more of the dots to get this mystery solved.
For right now, I snapped a picture on my phone and called it a day
.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Qs were on their way to meet me, but I wanted to be early so I left ten minutes before I'd told them I would. Before I got to Nate's I spotted a cop car—no, make that four cop cars—parked in front of his house.
Holy crapola! This was déjà vu all over again with Chaz leading Nate toward the squad car. I felt his pain. Another guy, his back to me, seemed to be the one in charge, and his arms were motioning to get things done and quick. He said something to Chaz and pointed to Nate's untethered hands, forcing Chaz to put Nate in cuffs.
Jerk.
I clutched my chest while my heart broke into tiny pieces. Did they find a body? Nate could be a huge stick in the mud, but he wasn't a criminal. Sure, his ex was a loser of ginormous proportions, but that didn't mean he bumped her off. He wouldn't do anything that might compromise Em.
Feeling like I had no choice but to intervene, I slammed on the brakes, shoved the car into park, threw the door open, and ran. I'd throw myself on the hood of the cop car if it would stop them from committing this act of madness.
How had this investigation gone from zero to sixty overnight? If they'd found Jen's body, the Qs' network would have sniffed that out ten seconds after it had happened. Nothing got past them. Did Gabe's ex have anything to do with this? Had she pushed the wheels of justice to work against Nate? Did her mysterious meeting with the homeless person in disguise have anything to do with it?
Something seemed wrong, and I didn't know what piece to the puzzle was missing, but I'd figure it out. In the meantime, I couldn't let them railroad Nate.
Not. On. My. Watch.
"Chaz, you have to stop. You know this isn't right." The words sounded strangled as I fought to hold back tears. All I could think about was Emily losing another parent, and my blood ran cold.
Instead of responding, he shook his head, a grim look on his face. I ran to the back door of the squad car, barred the door with my body, and refused to move. The guy in charge barked out orders and told one of the other officers to grab my arm.
The officer had tears in his eyes as he approached me. "You need to move along, ma'am."
"You can't do this. Nate is a good person. You know that. Everybody knows that except for the idiot in charge." I needed Nate to be free in order to clear my mind enough to get the job done. If they put him in jail, it would be over. Human behavior meant people reacted negatively to people in mug shots and assumed they were already guilty. And no doubt it would be splashed all over the papers by morning about a dirty cop trying to get away with murder.
"I've been appointed by the county to help with the investigation, seeing that Sheriff Crowder has allegiances in the area. We want this to be fair and square." The guy looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him. I remembered seeing a guy with a scar through his right eyebrow, but where?
"Bringing in someone who has been an FBI agent, an exemplary individual, a great father to his daughter, is the right way to do something? You've got to be kidding me. You're overreaching because you have an ax to grind would be my guess." I was running out of breath and running out of conversation. Where were the Qs when I needed them? Was Mel behind this? Had she found someone who would rally behind her need to have Nate tried and convicted before he stepped into a courtroom? This had her name written all over it. Was this the guy-in-disguise I'd spotted her with the other day? He had piercing eyes, but something seemed off in the comparison, at least in my head.
Chaz seemed reluctant to do anything. He kept looking back and forth between Nate and the jerk who had forced him into escalating the matter.
Nate shook his head, looking even sadder than I ever could have imagined. "It's okay, Izzy. I can handle this."
I didn't want to move from my stand-my-ground position to offer him comfort, although the idea warred inside my head. A million different worries reflected in his wide-eyed stare as well as the firm set of his jaw. If anyone needed a hug right now, it was Nate. But I couldn't break away and risk my territorial stand.
A car screeched to a halt seconds later, and the Qs piled out of Henry's Uber car—or, as the sign said, Oober. Under different circumstances, I might have giggled at the scene. The ladies quickly went from dressing down Henry for his chaotic driving to processing the scene in front of them.
Immediately sensing what I was up to, they grasped hands with each other and me and took a position along the side of the car. Alice started to chatter about Nate's rights, while Mr. Jerkface folded his arms across his chest and stared as if that alone would cause us to back down.
"I know the governor, and this kind of nonsense will not be tolerated by her," Ramona added. While I didn't believe she actually knew the governor, I couldn't help but admire her well-timed use of hutzpah.
"I'm sure she knows I'm just doing my job," Jerk added without so much as a quiver in his voice. "Stand down and fly right, or I'll arrest the lot of you." That was where he lost me because a person in his position shouldn't engage like that.
"Go ahead and try," Alice added. "My nephew doesn't appreciate his little old aunt getting pushed around by a bully."
"It seems there's some disagreement as to who's the bully here. Now let these fine officers do their job." A drop of sweat rolled down Jerk's cheek. I figured he might be contemplating calling for backup but didn't want to be a laughingstock either so was biding his time and hoping we'd give up.
Between the Qs and me, giving up would never happen.
Nate shrugged. "Let's allow the wheels of justice to work, and everything will be fine." He nodded and negotiated his way toward the car. "I'm good as long as Emily's good. She's at her friend Alexis's house. Go pick her up around five and tell her I've been called out. Keep doing what you've been doing, and everything will work out." He moved in close to my ear. "Get in touch with Phil Reed. He knows who's behind this," he whispered under his breath.
I'm pretty sure my mouth hung open at his last comment. While I didn't say it out loud, I wanted to scream, "Are you frickin' kidding me?"
Phil Reed didn't like me much, and he was one scary dude. If Nate had stopped at keep doing what you're doing, I would have been fine. But then he had to throw gasoline on the proverbial fire.
The idea of investigating Gabe's ex and her torrid affair with a man who clearly had some secrets had a nice ring to it. I'd be all over that. But then Nate had to bum me out by mentioning Phil. Or was he using Phil as code to give me a signal as to what was going on? The ladies looked at me for some sense of direction.
Gosh, I hated adulting. And, most times, I wasn't very good at it.
Knowing a sense of defeat when confronted with it, I moved out of the way and nodded toward the Qs, encouraging them to do the same. Alice didn't want to bend—not that I blamed her. Everything in me wanted to throw myself on the hood of the car and hang on. Instead, we all linked arms and drew her away.
It about broke my heart the secon
d time when Chaz put him in the back of that squad car and drove away. At least when Chaz thought I was withholding evidence and arrested me, he'd let me sit in the front seat so I didn't have to be totally humiliated. This was so much worse.
And it hit me. Now I remembered where I'd seen the jerk. When Chaz had arrested me, I'd watched people come and go in the small county jail, but this guy had stood out. I remembered listening to him as he made his entrance, barking orders like he owned the place before leaving.
At the time I had nothing to do besides count the bricks on the wall, so people-watching worked for me. On the surface, he was kind of good-looking, but his face was stuck in perpetual I'm-better-than-everyone-else mode.
Give me a break. I was in jail. There was nothing to do to amuse myself.
Each of us seemed to be in different stages of incredulity combined with grief. Tears swam before my eyes while I wiped at my cheeks. Alice was talking to herself as she paced across the lawn and fiddled with her phone. Ramona was shocked into silence. Dolly was lecturing us about how we needed to proceed, while Viola silently grabbed my hand and squeezed.
"What…what…" I hiccupped through a tear, making me cough and tear up again. My emotions hadn't been this intense for a very long time, and I suspect it had something to do with my connection to Emily. That was all I could think about.
"There, there, Izzy. We're going to help Nate, just like we always do." Viola patted my hand.
"What am I going to say to Emily?" Yes, I was feeling sorry for myself, but right now I couldn't think straight. The idea of Emily losing her father brought back my own memories of loss. That only reminded me that I had yet to truly reconnect with my own father and try to uncover what he was up to.
"Exactly what Nate told you to do. We'll go on from there and figure things out," Viola responded with that twinkle in her eye that made me believe not only did she have my back, but she'd come along on this journey as well.
Alice wandered over and held out her phone. "We better be quick about it because I just looked up that guy in charge on my phone, and he has the highest conviction rate in the state. They call him the Madman of the County, Charlie Evans. A hundred and ninety-eight convictions out of two hundred trials over the last ten years," Alice said as she glanced up from her phone.
Ten minutes ago, I would have thought this situation couldn't get any worse. But I was wrong. This guy had to be the District Attorney Nate had warned me about. No shred of evidence was too thin for him to get a conviction.
I wasn't sure the Qs and I were big enough or strong enough to beat a case like this. We might need some help this time.
* * *
I distracted Emily that night by having a sleepover at my place. She took to the idea immediately as I'd known she would. We had a fun girls' night involving creative activities, popcorn, and movie watching—Game Plan and Princess Bride—and while she had fun, I enjoyed the respite as well for that moment. By morning I was getting a little nervous as I thought through excuses as to why her father still wasn't home, but thankfully I didn't need to come up with one.
The judge let Nate out on bail by nine thirty. I dropped her off still oblivious to all that had gone on behind the scenes. But now I had to get serious about clearing his name as quickly as possible, so I headed to Viola's to talk strategy with the Qs.
Since Gabe had once again left for parts unknown, I didn't have him for support, and frankly it ticked me off. His friend had been arrested, and he was MIA. Besides that, I wanted to confront him about Mel's potential part in this and get him up to speed on what was going on.
At another place and time, I might have gotten into it with him about his secrecy, but today I had more pressing matters to attend to. Sooner or later I'd get it out of him—either that or I'd pump Viola for information.
"We need to focus on proving Nate's innocence and fast. What do we have so far?"
"We know that Drew Lannon guy has friends in high places," Viola said.
"And we know he has it out for Nate," Dolly added. "And we also have to include Melanie in the mix. She's not above throwing her weight around."
"And we know she's always been a social climber, based on what she did to Gabe." Alice shook her head as Viola raised her eyebrows. "I never did like that girl."
"And I saw her kissing this guy when I went to Iowa City to get my hair cut. He was dressed up like a bum. He was in disguise, but I think he resembled that Madman guy." I passed around the picture on my phone.
There was a collective gasp from the group, and we all seemed to look toward Viola for direction. She fussed for a bit but finally spoke. "Could be. Mel has always been one to capitalize on movers and shakers." She tsk-tsked and looked pensive for a few moments before she continued. "She did the same thing with Gabe once he'd made it big. That girl is a groupie. Is that what you call people who do stuff like that? But it's hard to say for sure who this guy is."
I nearly forgot what she said after the whole thing about Gabe making it big. It was the closest I'd come to discovering his secret, but now I had to tread lightly in retrieving the information. I nodded slowly. "Groupie sounds accurate…but…what do you mean about Gabe making it big?" I stuttered through the question because I ached to know the answer.
Alice piped up first. "The boy has some skills. That's for sure."
While it was on the tip of my tongue to ask what she meant, I knew that would not work with this crew. As ludicrous as it sounded, I needed to do subtlety. "His carpentry skills are amazing. That's for darn sure. Nothing against Gabe, but I don't see how that translates to Mel's groupie behavior."
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask exactly what Mel did in the past, but I knew nobody in this group would be forthcoming. All the ladies had loose lips about everything in town—from the mundane, like who had gallbladder surgery, to the juiciest of gossip, like who was cheating on their spouse or taxes. But when it came to one of their own, I couldn't pry the information out of them even by plying them with a couple of their favorite sweet treats.
But I sure could try to keep up the good thought that maybe they'd give me a nugget I could chew on for a bit. I held my breath. For once, nobody seemed to want to talk.
Finally, Viola piped up. "My boy Gabe has many talents. He was a fine attorney but decided that wasn't for him and took another path that's equally satisfying. He became sought after, and Mel didn't like it at all. She's an aggressive person, and that cost her a whole lot more than she'd planned on."
Talk about a riddle. What could I possibly do with such a lack of information? Absolutely nothing. In some respects, I felt like I was having a conversation with Cleo, except for the rhyming.
"I've got an idea for today. Let's do what Nate suggested and try to get some information out of Phil. I know it's not our first choice, but he seems to be in the know after what Nate mentioned," Ramona said.
Talk about a massive trajectory shift. While I knew it was coming, I'd have been lying if I hadn't said the whole thing gave me whiplash.
I drew in a deep breath, changed direction, and concentrated on Ramona's suggestion. While I admitted it was a great idea, the truth was the guy scared me to death. I wasn't the type to go fearless into the midst, but I liked to believe I had let go of a smidgen of my wussiness during the time I'd been in Iowa.
What was it that scared me about Phil, other than the fact he'd been in prison for assault? Maybe it was the scar and the bad breath and teeth, or maybe it was because he'd been in prison. I know stereotypes are a bad thing, but that guy would scare the Rock. Okay, maybe not the Rock or John Cena, but a normal-sized person would be afraid of the guy.
I tapped my finger against the table as I considered what type of ammunition we might need in this sort of operation. "If we're going up against Phil, we need to be prepared. What's that stuff police officers use when they know the place they're going into will stink to high heaven?"
"I think they use Vicks VapoRub," Viola said.
"But that
opens the sinuses. Wouldn't that make the smell worse?" Dolly asked.
"Hmm…maybe some peppermint oil under the nostrils. I heard about that in my essential oils class," Ramona suggested. "It's supposed to help with pet odors, so I imagine it will work fine with Phil. In fact, I have a new bottle in my purse. I say we all give it a try and go find him."
"No doubt he's at the bowling alley prowling like an alley cat," Alice said.
With no other options, we walked out the door in search of…gulp…Phil's help.
And I used that term loosely as well as optimistically.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alice led the way as we walked into the perpetually smoky—even without any smoking allowed—establishment known as Bud's Bowling in Princeton. I swore the carpet had never been replaced, and the walls hadn't been washed since the old chain-smoking days, and the aroma had seeped into the walls and stayed there. Forever apparently. As for the owner, I'd met Bud before, and it was best for me to steer clear of him if I didn't want things to go sideways. Then again, everything I touched seemed to go that way.
I'd become accustomed to everyone staring when we walked inside, here or anywhere for that matter. Today was no different. I could have sworn the bowling pins stopped midtumble the second we entered.
The Qs took the attention in stride and by nature relished in it. Word got around fast, especially after all the press coverage from our last caper, and people recognized us like we were celebrities. That added a little awe to the shock when we arrived. While we didn't have groupies—although I'm pretty sure the Qs would have loved that—we had more than our fair share of what I called jealous skeptics. Right now, the place seemed to be full to the brim with them, if the undercurrent of snide remarks I heard as we passed through was any indication.
I dabbed a little more peppermint oil beneath my nose, held my head high, and continued on through the sea of patrons. Given the amount of hairspray used by most of the ladies who hung at Bud's, it was probably good that smoking wasn't allowed. One flick of an ash, and no doubt an explosion would have rocked the whole block. There were stereotypes, and then there was reality in Princeton, Iowa. Talk about a time warp. These women, and probably some of the men, never met a can of Aqua Net they didn't love. Today the ozone layer inside the place would have activated a high-alert signal by the federal government, and smart people would have been donning gas masks.
