A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries)

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  Gwen tugged my right arm. I shifted the gift into my left hand and presented her an empty right hand. She went left and I repeated the process with my other hand.

  Gwen tipped her head back and screamed.

  “Yikes!” I whipped the box onto her tray. “Shh.”

  “Mia’s teasing the baby,” Dad narced.

  I shook a silent fist in his direction. “I gave her a gift.” I lifted the box lid and carefully removed the motion sensor monkey.

  He crashed his tiny cymbals together.

  Gwen clapped.

  The more she clapped, the more Monkey clapped.

  Mom frowned. “How nice of you.”

  “I’m always thinking of my sweet niece.”

  I headed back to my seat. Jake returned from the kitchen with Tom.

  Tom carried a beautiful cake. “Now, the reason we’re all here.” He set the masterpiece in front of Bree. The two-tier dessert was covered in smooth blue frosting. Tiny yellow stars were sprinkled over the top. Words from a nursery rhyme were scribed along the edge. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.

  Mom leaned in for a closer look. “I still don’t know how you’ve kept this from her. I can barely stand the anticipation.”

  Tom slid his patient gaze to Bree. “It wasn’t always easy, but this moment is about to make the secret-keeping worthwhile.”

  Bree lifted the crystal-handled knife used on her wedding cake and closed her eyes. “I can’t do it.”

  Tom took the utensils and kissed her head. He lifted his eyes to ours. “Pink cake means we’re having a girl. Blue cake means we’re having a boy. Both colors are almond flavored.”

  Bree closed her eyes.

  Tom placed a slice onto Bree’s plate and lifted it into the air.

  We gasped.

  Bree peeked. One eye, then the other. “A girl!” She gaped at the bright pink slice of cake. “I knew it was a girl!” She pushed onto her feet and slung both arms around Tom’s neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He nuzzled her neck.

  I took over slicing and delivering cake to the guests.

  Bree wiped her eyes and sobbed at her slice. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy.”

  Tom kissed her head and went to the kitchen. He returned with another cake.

  Silence fell over the room. I stared at the remaining half-cake in the table’s center. Did that new cake mean what I thought it meant?

  Bree covered her mouth.

  Tom shoved her plate away and handed her the knife again.

  She bawled.

  He took the knife back and cut again. He spun the slice slowly, so we all had a good look. More pink.

  Dad made the sign of the cross.

  Jake lifted his strawberry-fizz faux martini. “Hear, hear! To Bree and Tom.”

  “Bree and Tom!” The room cheered.

  Gwen squealed in delight.

  The monkey banged its cymbals.

  * * *

  An hour later, we walked Lydia to the door. She opted to call a car to take her to the airport. Whether she hated to break up the party or feared Marvin’s driving, I couldn’t say.

  She hugged Mom. “I’ve had a lovely and insightful time, Gwendolyn. I was a fan of this concept from day one, but living it for an evening was better even than I imagined. I’m going to get to work on the plane and make magic happen.”

  Mom waved goodbye to the car and shut the door with a deep exhale. “I don’t think I can write the story anymore. I changed my mind.”

  “What?” I looped my arm under hers and pulled her toward the wine. “Of course you can write the story. It’s your story. You’re the perfect one to write it, and you’ve already said this was your dream. Aren’t you always telling us to chase our dreams?”

  She accepted a tall glass of pinot from Tom. “I don’t know. Fact checking has been such a nuisance. My memory isn’t what it used to be, and none of you have been very forthcoming. Fiction would be so much easier.”

  I doubted that.

  Grandma tipped her glass to Mom’s. “Get back to us at the end of that glass and see if you still feel that way.” She pointed her glass at Jake next. “Mr. Marshal. How’s the fugitive apprehension business going?”

  Jake leaned his backside against the counter. He cast me a look. “We’ve got one pinned in. It won’t be long now.”

  “Good.” She moseyed to his side and squeezed his middle. “I’m glad you came tonight.” Her head fell somewhere north of his navel and significantly south of his shoulders.

  “I’m glad to be here. I have to say, I agree with Lydia. Your family is pretty amazing. You should tell your story, Mrs. Connors.” He fixed Mom with soulful blue eyes.

  Good luck resisting that.

  Mom drained her drink.

  Jake groaned. He pulled his phone into one hand and rubbed his face with the other. “I’ve got to go.” He said his goodbyes in a hurry.

  I followed him to the door. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep.” He kissed my cheek.

  Lies. “Anything you want to share?”

  “Nope.” He jogged down the front steps.

  My heart sank. Why wouldn’t he open up to me? What if he was going to do something dangerous?

  Jake turned to face me and took a few backward steps down the driveway. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

  Four days in a row? We were on a roll. “Are we official?” The juvenile words were out before I could stop them. I let my eyes shut briefly, squared my shoulders and reopened my eyes with my chin held high. I was a professional blurter, and it wasn’t all bad. Worst case scenario, I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but at least I knew the truth. “A couple-couple.”

  Jake drew his eyebrows together and marched back to me.

  “Say something.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  I crossed my arms and prepared a rebuttal.

  “Mia, to me, we were official long before I ever asked you out.”

  “Why’d you hesitate before you answered?”

  He barked a laugh. “Are you kidding? I thought you were setting me up for one of your feminist rants.”

  I scowled.

  He laughed and uncrossed my arms with big warm hands. “I’ve been part of a couple before. This is something else. You’re something else.”

  “I don’t like the way you said the last part.”

  He kissed my pouty lips. “See? Now, lunch tomorrow?”

  “I have to meet Nate tomorrow. We’re interviewing another project management company.”

  “All right. Another time, then.” He headed back to his truck and drove away.

  I shut the door and waited several minutes, watching to see if anyone tailed him.

  Chapter Twenty

  I arrived at my desk early the next morning, ready to contact the cab companies to see if they could tell me why two drivers were dodging my calls. I hoped it was because they were sick or fired and not because they were somehow in cahoots with the killer. I smoothed the paper with two cabbies’ numbers on my desk. If they worked nights, which they must if they picked up the killer after nine, and I wanted to catch them on duty, then I had to waste a little time before calling.

  The clubhouse was eerily still at this hour, but it was better than the a-killer’s-in-your-closet quiet I had at my place. I kept my eyes on the time as I sorted email from my inbox, and secretly hoped Fifi would come to work early again. Footfalls pounded on the carpet outside my door. And stopped. My body went rigid. My mind on high alert. I searched the desk for something to use as a weapon if needed. “Hello?” I called.

  The doorknob wiggled and my door swung open.

  I squeaked. “Holy Mary!”


  Mr. Peters held his palms up. “Sorry!”

  I sipped sweet air and thanked the heavens he wasn’t there to kill me or pelt me with dead mice. “Mr. Peters! What’s going on?”

  “Raccoons.” He smiled. “The gamekeepers caught a half dozen raccoons.”

  I shifted onto my feet. That was good news. “Really?”

  “Yes, and they asked my advice on planting food for the squirrels. I’m going out with them today to find the best locations for new squirrel boxes and food.”

  “That’s great. Thank you.”

  He stepped into my office and pulled the door closed behind him. “I want you to know I’m removing the camera in the willow today. Do you think it will be all right if I install small cameras inside the squirrel boxes? I’d like to continue monitoring their activity without breaking any rules. I can tuck the cameras inside the boxes.” He mimed the action. “The result will be much less intrusive. For humans,” he added. “I don’t think the squirrels mind.”

  “I think that would be fine.” Cameras hidden intentionally inside the boxes? Good luck replacing your wiring every day.

  He hitched a thumb over one shoulder and moved away from me. “I’m going to go make a big show of removing the willow’s camera. I want to be sure word gets around that I’ve complied with your request.”

  “I can send an email.”

  “Excellent.”

  Fifi passed him in the doorway. “Hi, Mr. Peters. Bye, Mr. Peters.”

  I dropped into my seat. “Good morning, Fifi. Thanks for the party invitation last weekend. We had a great time.”

  She dropped her bags under her desk. “It looked like you were having a great time.”

  “I just said that.”

  She crossed the small space between us and took a seat on the edge of my desk. “Did you get the information you wanted from the senator?”

  “No, but I left him my card.”

  She nodded. “That’s something, right? Is there anything I can do to help with the investigation?”

  “Not yet.” I picked up the scrap of paper where I’d scratched a couple of phone numbers. “I want to touch base with two cab companies this morning.” I dialed the first headquarters. “I only have two cabbies left to contact. One at each of these numbers. They might not be on duty this early, but maybe I can get some information from their managers.”

  “Gimme one.”

  I ripped the paper in half and passed her the second set of information while I spoke with the manager at Yellow Cab. My call was short and frustrating. I rested my forehead on my desk and tried to make sense of Fifi’s conversation.

  “Thank you so much,” she trilled. Fifi covered the phone with her palm and turned to me. “I’m being transferred.”

  I lifted my head. “Transferred where? To the cabbie? Do you mean you get to talk to the guy?”

  She hung her mouth open and nodded. Her eyes were wide with victory.

  “Tell him you need a ride.” I sprang to my feet. “Have him pick you up here. I’ll call Bernie to tell her we’re expecting him.”

  “Yes?” She uncovered her phone and turned away from me. “Yes. That’s right. I’d like to arrange a ride to the airport.”

  Boo. The airport was twenty minutes away. We’d be gone an hour by the time we made the round trip, and I already had a full schedule.

  She spun back to face me. “He’s on his way.”

  Hope rose in my chest. Maybe this cabbie was the key to locating Dante’s killer. “Thank you.”

  She looked at my phone and wrinkled her brows. “What about your guy? Any luck?”

  I tipped my head side to side. “Turns out the other cabbie, Sammie Houts, is a woman, and she probably hasn’t returned my call because she took a leave of absence. To have a baby.”

  Fifi clucked her tongue. “People and their weirdo priorities.”

  “Right?”

  “Well, if this guy—” she scanned the slip of paper in her hand “—Calvin Besk, doesn’t pan out, at least we know where we can find Sammie. I’m not above taking balloons to the maternity ward if it gets us some answers.”

  I chuckled. Why not?

  I checked my watch. Two hours before I needed to meet Nate. I dialed Bernie to let her know about the cab, then opened my personal email on the off chance Josh Chan had a change of heart, dropped his lawsuit against Dante and decided to take my interview.

  My phone rang, and Jake’s face appeared on the little screen. “It’s Jake,” I told Fifi. “Why isn’t he texting?”

  She pointed a pen at my phone. “Ask him.”

  I lifted the device to my ear and pressed the green button to accept his call. “Why are you calling and not texting? Are you hurt? Is anyone hurt? Am I in danger? Do you have another lead?”

  “Mia?”

  “Yes.” Panic seized me. “Can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you, but I can’t answer all those questions at once. You’re supposed to say Hello when the phone rings. Maybe you should cut back on texting.”

  “Maybe you should cut back,” I retorted stupidly and trailed off with no idea how to finish. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  A smile cracked my worried thoughts. “Yes.”

  “Still too busy for lunch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I thought I’d take a chance. I’m heading to a hotel near Cleveland in a few hours. We had an unconfirmed sighting on Horton, then someone checked into the Downtown Renaissance under an alias Horton’s used in the past. In case that’s not a coincidence, we put a man on stakeout for a few nights. We think he’s holed up inside somewhere. He hasn’t left. Food is always delivered.”

  “So, what are you going to do? What’s the plan?”

  “I’m doing a little role-playing tonight. I’m intercepting Horton’s dinner on the way up the elevator, then I’m going to knock on the door, deliver the meal and see who’s really in that hotel room.”

  I couldn’t see how this plan would work. “You aren’t believable as a pizza boy.”

  “Why? Some like Taco Tuesdays. Maybe tonight’s Country Man Monday.”

  “Can I get a menu for that?”

  He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile take care of yourself and stick with a buddy when you go out. I haven’t tied those dead mice to Horton, but they’re definitely a threat. Be vigilant.”

  Bernie’s voice burst through the speaker on Fifi’s desk phone. “Ladies, your cab’s here.”

  Fifi pushed the intercom button. “Send him to the clubhouse.”

  “Cab?” Jake asked. “What are you doing?”

  Fifi hiked her hobo bag onto one shoulder and leaned her face near my phone. “See ya, Jake. We’re taking a ride to the airport. Hopefully my dad’s flight is on time.”

  “Oh,” he whispered. Probably detecting her lie and wondering how much I could be trusted. “Mia?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m going to drop your blueberries off at Congress Lake on my way.”

  Oh my goodness, I’d almost forgotten about the stupid blueberries. “Thank you!”

  “It’s no problem. Remember what I said.”

  “I will. Be careful in Cleveland.”

  I dropped the phone into my bag and followed Fifi down the employee hallway to the double glass front doors. “Is your dad really coming in on a plane today?” Wherever he went, he’d have had to leave after I saw him Saturday night, and it was only Monday morning.

  She held the final door open with her hip. “He’s en route to Portland for a week, but we can still look at the boards and see if his flight’s on time.”

  “I don’t like lying to Jake.”

  “We aren’t lying. We’re creating a cover
story.” She climbed into the waiting taxi and scooted to the center of the backseat.

  I slid in beside her and shut the door. “Pew.” I pressed my fingers against my nose.

  Fifi popped her head between the front seats. “Airport.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The cabbie pushed some buttons on his dashboard and little green numbers flashed. The photo ID checked out. This was Calvin Besk.

  His cab smelled like incense and cigarette smoke, despite the abundance of No Smoking stickers on the doors and seat backs. Whatever he’d eaten for breakfast mingled with the other scents until my eyes watered. The low and repetitive beat of house music pumped softly though rear speakers. Calvin was a disheveled mess. His eyes were rimmed in red. His clothes were wrinkled. He wasn’t a man I’d have willingly gotten in a car with under normal circumstances, and here I was, paying him for the stinky experience. Hopefully Calvin took more care behind the wheel than he had on his personal hygiene.

  We rolled slowly through Horseshoe Falls, stopping fully at the sign and waiting for a woman on horseback to pass. I waved to Bernie at the gate.

  Fifi looked utterly at ease. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. Horseshoe Falls must be out of your way.”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you come here often?” She giggled.

  He turned for a look at her over the seatback and busted out an all-teeth smile. “You’re funny and good-looking. Must be my lucky day.”

  “Must be,” I muttered.

  He cast me a wayward gaze before pulling onto the main road away from our community.

  “So, do you?” Fifi repeated. “Come here often? Out to Horseshoe Falls, I mean.”

  “Sometimes.” His eager smile, understandably, lost its oomph. Only a real dodo wouldn’t see she was up to something.

  I leaned my shoulder against Fifi’s, forcing my face into the reflection of his rearview mirror. “Did you pick anyone up near Horseshoe Falls eleven days ago? On a Friday night? Around nine o’clock. He was dressed like a jogger and wearing all black. He would’ve been out of place, walking along the street. No car.”

  He swung an elbow over his armrest and angled back toward us.

  “Eyes on the road,” I ordered.