Peppermint Soul (Liza McNairy Mysteries Book 1)

by Dan Glover

"Thanks, Danners... you're a genius. No wonder Liza keeps you around."

  "Well fuck you too, big boy."

  "Danners... Hank... both of you knock it off. Look under the bed. I see a shirt sleeve sticking out."

  It hurt even to bend down but she was right. Christ... what the hell had they been doing? He had aches in places he never even knew existed. Danners was looking at him funny, like he suspected something. Fucking queer. And then he remembered the strap-on that Paula pulled out of her purse. Black and every inch of a foot long. Don't worry, Hank love... it'll fit.

  "I'm going to the bathroom to dress, girls. Be out soon."

  He needed a shower. And something to eat. Sally was going to be pissed. Or had he covered his tracks? He seemed to recall texting Marcy about something, but what was it? His eyes hurt too much to check his phone just now. Shower first, then eat. Let the old ass recuperate a bit. He should have known better. He wasn’t eighteen any longer.

  He set the water to as hot as he could stand and stepped under. Damn, his rectum hurt. Like another bout of hemorrhoids only worse. That goddamned dildo of Paula's probably stirred them up again. Soap. Lots of soap. Wash away any trace of Paula. Wouldn’t do for Sally to notice another woman's scent on him. Did she expect him home soon? Or was he gone for a few days? Better call Marcy. She'd know.

  How'd they find him? No one knew about this place. Unless they tracked him. Used his smart phone to locate him. That meant one of two things: they were worried. Unlikely. Or else they suspected. Ah. So that was it. The tables were turning. He'd told them to turn in their passports. And like two good little girls they went down to his office to do so. Only he wasn’t there. And Marcy didn’t know a thing about it. Which meant he was lying. Using it as a pretext to learn whatever they knew. That had to be it. He took ages in the shower hoping the girls would give up and leave but when he stepped out of the bathroom there they were. Waiting. Like they expected nothing less.

  "Well... if you two are going to hang around all day, the least you can do is buy me breakfast. Pad that expense account of yours. Come on, girls."

  Chapter 41—Paula

  (The Prude)

  She wasn’t sure where she was or why she was here. She remembered being with Hank Lupo for two days debasing herself. Or was it three? She rationalized her infidelities by telling herself Hank was someone she needed. Allen never understood that part of her... the slutty part... the whore in angel's clothing. He always wanted it the same way. Missionary. A few thrusts and done. Like she counted for nothing. Was it good for you, Paula? Oh, you know it was, honeyboo. So good.

  She'd tried talking to the man. Even bought sex books and left them lying about his bedroom. If he ever noticed he never said anything, and nothing changed. On the other hand, Hank Lupo was a madman. Everything Allen wasn’t. The man had needs, like her. And he had information. Or so he said.

  If she hadn’t seen Liza McNairy at Rambo's, that thing with Hank Lupo would be over. But after seeing Liza, she had to have the man again. Not that it mattered. Hank had always given her what she desired and without any force on her part. The man liked certain things that she provided and in exchange he didn’t mind talking. The pot might have helped on that account.

  As her mind cleared she realized she was back at home. Where was Allen? Probably downstairs drunk, waiting for her to wake up. How long had she been sleeping? It was dark outside and the clock said two. AM or PM? Well, it damned sure wasn’t this dark out at two in the afternoon. Not unless Mount Los Angeles had erupted and spewed a toxic cloud of ass over the entire city. Ash. She meant ash. Still had ass on her mind, apparently. She'd come home around noon so she must have slept the whole day away. Tired. Worn out. Used up. A knock at the door. Quiet. Like he didn’t really want to be heard.

  "I saw your light on. Are you awake, Paula?"

  "Yes, Allen. Come in."

  There were times when she hated herself. How she let everyone down. The twins, her husband, her parents, her entire family... all of them had such high expectations of her and she only ended up shattering them. Allen looked tired. Like he'd been waiting up on her to get home, drinking his meals like he always did. He sat down on the bed, lighted two cigarettes, and offered her one. She accepted it. Took a deep drag and held the smoke in her lungs until the room began to spin and nausea set in before letting it out. The cloud seemed to fill the whole room.

  "I was worried about you."

  Here it comes. The guilt trip. Why did she even bother coming home? She had enough money of her own to start over new someplace else. But what if the girls came back here and found her gone? Their hearts would shatter. That reminded her. She needed to say something to the private eyes about taking Benji bear. To bring him back. He belonged here at home, not in some strange place with that weird man.

  "I'm sorry, Allen. I had to get away for a couple days."

  He'd believe anything she said because he wanted to. And technically she hadn’t strayed. No penetrating sex, at least not for her. Hell, she couldn’t even remember kissing Hank Lupo. She just wanted a bit of kink. Something she could never find here with Allen. Was that so much to ask?

  "Where were you?"

  "Does it matter?"

  "Were you with him?"

  Oh Christ... here it comes again. Him. The dreaded word. She wanted to tell Allen there were so many hims but what purpose would that serve? It'd only cause the man to put up another wall between them. And weren't there already enough of those goddamned barricades?

  "No, Allen. I wasn’t with him."

  A sigh of relief. Finally a smile. Yes, Allen. I'm still the chaste wife you married all those years ago. Paula the prude. Isn't that what you used to call me? Easily shocked by sexual innuendos. Quick to blush over a bit of nudity.... especially my own. The poor man never understood it was all a ruse, a hoax perpetrated by a latent nymphomaniac.

  He was crying now. Sobbing. She supposed she was all he had. It was cruel to treat him in such a callous manner. Would she do it again? Absolutely. And he knew it as well as her. He wasn’t crying for her. The tears were for him. His own weakness and impotency.

  She cradled his head in her arms and let him weep.

  Chapter 42—Facts

  (And Teddy Bears)

  "So what do you think?"

  "She's not telling us the truth, Liza."

  To her surprise Paula Picany answered the door. No, Allen wasn’t here just now. And sure, they could come in. In fact she'd been meaning to call them. About the bear. Someone had taken Missy's teddy bear from her room and she'd appreciate it if they could return it.

  "I have the bear, Mrs. Picany. That's how I work. I handle items that belong to missing people and I get impressions from them. I'd like to keep the bear a while longer if that's okay."

  "I wish you'd have said something, Mr. Forthright."

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Picany... your husband told us we were free to take whatever we needed to help us solve this case."

  "He should have checked with me first, Ms. McNairy."

  "Again... we apologize for any inconvenience, Mrs. Picany."

  "Have you gotten any, Mr. Forthright?"

  "Pardon?"

  "Impressions... you said you get impressions. Have you?"

  "The bear is named Benji."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I just do. It was loved. Your daughter slept with him each night. You're the one who knitted his pants."

  "I bought Benji for Missy on her second birthday. She wore that poor bear out. I got her another but she wouldn’t have a thing to do with it. She had to have Benji. Carried him everywhere. Lost him once... oh Christ... I thought the world might end if we didn’t find that stupid bear. Turned out Melinda had hidden him. They were twins and loved each other but there was always a bit of competition between them. Good natured mostly, but mean at times."

  "Did you know Thomas Johm, Mrs. Picany?"

  "Who?"

  "Johm... Thomas Johm... he once dated one of your da
ughters. Did you know him?"

  "No... I can't say I did. Should I?"

  "Your husband gave us the name. A few days later he turned up dead."

  "Are you saying Allen had something to do with it, Ms. McNairy?"

  "No, of course not. I'm just curious if you remembered him."

  "You think I had something to do with his murder."

  "I didn’t say he was murdered, Mrs. Picany."

  "You insinuated it."

  "How about Dr. Olay? Did you hear that he died recently too?"

  "Yes... how terrible, Ms. McNairy. I'd only just switched doctors. I'd heard stories about how the man was mixed up in some unsavory business and I wanted nothing more to do with him."

  "Can you account for your whereabouts on the nights those men died, Mrs. Picany?"

  "I think it's time for you to leave, Mr. Forthright."

  "He's only asking as a favor to you, Mrs. Picany. If they haven’t already, the police will be questioning you."

  "I'm tired. Please leave. The both of you."

  "We shook her up pretty good, Danners. What do you think her next move'll be?"

  "She'll contact Hank Lupo. He's her ace in the hole."

  "How's it all tie together, Danners? I don’t get it."

  It was the smack. She didn’t need Danners to tell her that. She saw it in his eyes. The pity. The anguish. That same look she'd seen a million times before. If only she could make him understand. That's what made her who she was. To keep going even when everyone else had reached the end of their strength... her secret weapon in the face of insurmountable odds.

  A thousand kisses deep, Lizzi.

  Danners was one of the few people in the world who knew about Lissi. It was so much easier to deal with on her own... no one needed to know she was once two people, a part of a perfect masterpiece. Of course Danners knew without being told... he saw it right off the first time they met. They won't exchange the gift you were meant to keep. What did he mean by that? Lissi knew.

  "The girls are alive, Liza."

  "You know that for a fact, Danners?"

  "That's the impressions I'm getting."

  "Where are they?"

  "That's why I need that teddy bear, Liza. I don’t know they're alive for a fact yet. It's like I can almost see the twins but there's a veil between us obscuring their location. Like wax."

  Chapter 43—Favors

  (And Lost Jobs)

  1

  So Hank Lupo and Paula Picany were keeping time. Interesting. He wondered for a moment how much that information would be worth but then remembered he was already being paid. He couldn’t fuck this up. Liza and Danners were his only clients. Hopefully if he produced they'd spread the word so no sense playing them now.

  Most people had no idea they were carrying around personal locators with them everywhere they went. Once he had the number to their smart phones he could track them just about anywhere in the world... even into lower earth orbit if need be. In the old days he'd be spending all his time trailing after folk, sitting in his car, waiting and watching and hoping he didn’t somehow miss them when they left home. No more. Now he could sit comfortably in his living room and watch their every movement.

  He'd first heard of Danners Forthright when the man was in prison... on death row, no less. His lawyer, or rather a law student named William Jeffreys, had contacted the FBI concerning his case, wanting access to their DNA database among other favors. Reilly Cooper was an up and coming agent with his eyes on the prize and without a doubt of Danners' guilt. When he was assigned the case all that changed in a matter of minutes.

  "I'm afraid I don’t understand much about how you use DNA in solving crimes, Mr. Cooper. Could you explain it to me?"

  "Please, call me Reilly. Well, you see, Mr. Jeffreys, our lab takes samples from crime scenes to use in comparison with those who are suspects. Ninety nine point nine percent of DNA is identical in everyone, but enough is different that we can distinguish between individuals.

  "We use what's known as variable number tandem repeats which are extremely unlikely to have the same sequence in unrelated individuals. By using a swab to collect samples of saliva, or by collecting blood or semen, or even hair follicles, we can either match it to a suspect or rule them out as the perpetrator of the crime."

  "So what are we looking at, Reilly? And please, call me William."

  "On the left is a semen sample collected from the crime scene... the one that Danners Forthright was convicted of killing that little boy. And on the right is a sample collected from Mr. Forthright himself."

  "They don't appear to match, Reilly."

  "Exactly... now, I don’t want to get your hopes up. I could be wrong, William. But it appears at first glance that Mr. Forthright was convicted of a crime he never committed."

  Reilly learned all about DNA sequencing at the Academy. In fact, for a short while he considered going into the forensic field rather than focusing on criminal cases. In the end, it seemed too esoteric, too removed from the everyday aspects of crime. Now, though, it dawned on him what a uniquely challenging field it could really be.

  A short while later, the conviction of Danners Forthright was set aside. They had a chance meeting in a tavern when Reilly noticed Forthright and McNairy on television, turned around, and saw them right beside him in person. The man intrigued him immensely. Reilly never believed in all that garbage about psychics and seers who could help solve crimes but Forthright seemed the real deal. They struck up a friendship. Later, they even became romantically involved, if you could call it that.

  Danners had issues. But hell, so did everyone. Was Forthright simply leading him on? Maybe. But then again, the man was honest about his afflictions too. He'd been in stir for ten years. On death row. That had to weigh on anyone. And he was no spring chicken either. Still, Reilly enjoyed the man's company enough that when Danners asked him a favor, he gladly assented. After all, the request had to do with solving a crime, and that's why Reilly joined the Bureau in the first place. Unfortunately, his immediate superior

  2

  Didn’t seem to agree.

  "You know our database is encrypted for a reason, Cooper. Why did you allow outsiders into it?"

  "They're law enforcement officials, sir. I thought..."

  "Says here they're private detectives, Cooper... since when does that qualify as being in law enforcement?"

  "I just thought..."

  "How much did they pay you, Cooper?"

  "Nothing, sir... I did it as a favor."

  "Well, son... that favor just cost you your job."

  Now, two years later, he was not only unemployed but unemployable courtesy of the Bureau that he had held in such high regard. All because he batted from the wrong side of the plate. Oh, no one said so, at least not overtly. It was all done in a manner completely sanguine and open, as if they were actually interested in helping him find his way.

  If he could, would he alter anything? Probably not... other than having never joined the Bureau at all. But then he never would have met Danners and Liza and his life would be one of dreary same old stories, like everyone else.

  Danners was a gas in those days. He'd just been released from prison after doing nearly ten years on death row for a murder he didn’t commit. The man lived with such gusto. And he wore his sexual predilection on his sleeve, dressing as flamboyantly as Lady Gaga without the tits. Their affair had been one of those fast and furious events burning out in only a few days though he knew Danners still doted on him. Perhaps that's why he gave McNairy and Forthright access to the FBI database when they asked. For old time's sake. At least that's how he rationalized his actions.

  He decided to track Hank Lupo too. Why not? He had his cell number and following one more person wasn’t a big deal. Who knew? It might pay dividends down the road. And if not, he'd have the information for his own private use. One never knew when certain tidbits like that might come in handy.

  The meeting with McNairy and Forthright w
ould be in a couple hours. They'd agreed to lunch at the bistro down on Sunset. Damned if he could remember the name but he knew the place well enough. Perhaps if he was subtle he might glean more information on Hank Lupo. The man interested him. Not from a sexual point of view but from a professional standpoint. Reilly had done a background check on him discovering a number of anomalies not entirely consistent with a detective in the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Office. Did McNairy know that too? They'd worked together for a number of years so it was possible.

  He had connections with people not normally associated with an official like Lupo. Weird people, folk who skirted along the edges of society sometimes falling into the depths of ill-repute, but Lupo seemed clean. Too clean. Like the files on him were being manipulated, scrubbed clean. But of what?

  Chapter 44—Love

  (In All the Wrong Places)

  Though he assured Liza that the twins were alive, he had his private doubts. They seemed alive but in strange ways. Too, when he attempted to locate them by using methods he'd perfected over the years, they kept turning up in multiple places all at once. Why had he told Liza something he wasn’t sure about? Perhaps he'd been hoping to shock the girl back to sobriety, if only for a few days.

  Liza worried him. Maybe that detracted from his powers of observation. She'd been chipping for as long as he'd known her but lately the habit had grown, nearly exponentially. Saying something to her about it wouldn’t do any good. He'd tried that. Liza would simply assure him how she had a handle on things. Maybe she was right. Most people he knew that had overdosed were hard-core users who'd gone through detoxification and then started again, thereby losing the tolerance they'd built up to the primo shit. Liza would never go that route. If she ever did quit, it would be on her own terms, not someone else's. They tried to make me go to rehab I said, 'no, no, no.'

  The first time they met he'd just gotten out of the can. She'd come by to interview him about the same case that had landed him in stir for ten long years and for once he could tell someone actually believed in him. Liza was just starting out as a private dick after a stint with the Sheriff's Department. He knew right off that she'd been through the shit, just like him, and though he'd never gone for women that was the day he'd fallen for Liza.