Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries)

by Brown, Virginia

  It didn’t take long to get her food, and she pulled back onto Poplar and headed toward her apartment. She needed a little quiet time to think. And plot her next move.

  Tootsie’s suggestion made sense. Aunt Darcy had to have loaned her car to someone. It made a lot more sense than another identical Lexus with an identical row of bumper stickers just happening to be in the parking lot. So now there were more possibilities, the list of suspects a bit longer than before. That was good for Darcy, bad for the police.

  When she pulled into the driveway shared with the other tenants, someone darted in front of her and she had to brake hard. Sarah Simon. It was a rare sighting. Normally, Sarah stayed in her apartment and peeked out her windows through closed drapes. Now, she scuttled like a crab to get out of the way before getting hit.

  “Hey, you okay?” she called, but Sarah ran all the way back into the building without looking over her shoulder. She had short auburn hair, and loose clothes that looked like pajamas flapped around her legs. Sarah lived in the apartment below hers, and as far as Harley knew, only came out on Groundhog Day. Strange girl.

  The red brick house held four apartments and five tenants: the Spragues on the second floor next to Harley, Sarah Simon right below her, and Mr. Diaz below the Spragues. She didn’t know his first name, but he had a really nice CRX that he parked in the garage. It was a mystery why there were only three parking slots in the garage for four apartments, but as the last tenant to lease, Harley parked under the oak tree. At least it was shade on hot summer days.

  Even with the ceiling fans and floor fans on, it was warm in her apartment. Harley opened the French doors and windows to get a cross breeze, took off her tee shirt and put on some shorts with her sports bra. Then she went out to sit on her balcony to eat. Bean burritos and nachos with cheese spanned three of the major food groups: vegetables, grains, dairy. Not bad. One day all this junk food was going to catch up to her, but right now, she ate pretty much what she liked. Diva’s dire warnings of obesity and rickets, among various other sinister diseases, couldn’t fight the lure of Taco Bell.

  Just across the green expanse of lawn in front of her apartment building, the Overton Park Zoo had a Sunday crowd. Cars rolled slowly through the park, bikers and walkers and picnickers enjoyed the day, and the occasional shriek of a child drowned out the peacocks. But not the diesel engines of an occasional city bus or the irritated blast of a car horn. Ah, summertime was nigh.

  She propped one foot on the wide white-painted concrete rail of the balcony and leaned back in her chair to finish off her second burrito. Her neighbors were home; she heard their New Age music seeping through the walls. The Spragues. They hated her now. All because of that unfortunate incident in the laundry room when one of the jewelry thieves Harley had been pursuing had mistaken Tammy Sprague for Harley and bopped her on the head. Tammy was all right, but apparently carried a grudge. Ah well. No big loss. They hadn’t been that close anyway.

  It occurred to her as she started on the nachos that while it was quite possible she’d mistaken Darcy as the driver of the Lexus, she’d been sure she’d caught a glimpse of blonde hair before it’d sped away. That meant it could be Madelyn or Amanda. It all happened so quickly, and there’d been no reason to be suspicious of anything at the time. If Darcy, who by her own admission wasn’t the most compassionate person in the world, was covering for someone, it had to be family.

  Harley thought about that some more. She really needed to talk to her cousins, and she needed to do so separately. That wasn’t always easy since Madelyn had come back home to live. She and Amanda could close ranks quickly, even though they didn’t always get along well when left on their own. Madelyn could be cruel, poking fun at her sister for being what she called “fat” when she was really only healthy. Harley had learned a long time ago not to defend Amanda, after a memorable afternoon at a family reunion when they were all teenagers. It had ended in a hair-pulling, nail-scratching brawl that Harley had won, even if barely. All the adults took sides, except Diva. And Nana McMullen. Diva had been disappointed in the unnecessary violence, and Nana McMullen had enjoyed the entertainment. Scary old lady.

  As she was pondering her misspent youth and the mystery of the cheese to tostada ratio always being off by a few chips, her phone rang. She went inside to answer it, bare feet padding over the wood floor that still bore faint traces of flour residue despite being scrubbed several times.

  It was Cami, her partner in crime.

  “You won’t believe this,” Cami said before Harley had a chance to say Hello, “but I’m on the horns of a moral dilemma.”

  Harley rolled her eyes and licked melted cheese off her fingers. “Uh hunh. Funny you should mention being on horns.”

  “You’ve got to stop finding bodies, Harley. It isn’t healthy. Now listen—this may shock you, but Bobby has been calling me.”

  “It’d be a shock if he didn’t. I saw the way he looked at you. So what’s the dilemma?”

  “He has a girlfriend.”

  “Angel of the topless dancer variety. Why is that a dilemma? Bobby never dates one person for very long before he moves on. That’s a warning, in case you missed it.”

  “No, he’s more than dating her, Harley. She lives with him.”

  “Still?”

  “Affirmative.” Cami blew out what sounded like a sigh, and added, “What should I do?”

  Harley grimaced. “I really don’t like getting mixed up in other people’s love lives. I’m not good at it. Hell, I’m not good at my own, so I’m the wrong person to come to for advice.”

  “You’re doing all right. Bruno—I mean Mike—seems like a great guy.”

  “He is. So far. But it’s only been a week. It could go south at any time now. My record on long-term relationships is six months, but that was with George.”

  “George? I don’t remember you dating a guy named George.”

  “I didn’t date him. He was my goldfish, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. The koi you liberated in the Audubon Park koi pond.”

  “I think he still remembers me, though, unlike most of the other men in my life.”

  “Men don’t forget you, Harley. They may cross the street when they see you coming, but they don’t forget you. Now, back to my problem. What should I do about Bobby?”

  “Run the other way. He has commitment issues. Unless you just want a good time in bed, he’s probably not the guy. Besides, he’s allergic to pet hair and you have a zoo at your house.”

  “I adopted two of the cats out this week. I think it’s going to work out great for them.”

  “Uh hunh.” Harley wasn’t that big on cats. They’d always seemed like such sneaky, evil creatures, skulking about to leap out from dark corners to massacre unwary birds. And bare toes. That reminded her of the one cat she had liked, one of Cami’s rescues, a contrary beast that had seemed less repulsive than most. She’d never met a blue-eyed cat before, and he’d reminded her in a way of Morgan. Must be the arrogance.

  Cami was saying, “I have this stuff I spray that eliminates the animal dander so people with allergies can visit. It works really well. Bobby hardly sneezed at all last time he was here, and his eyes didn’t swell up and turn red, and his nose didn’t run . . . ”

  “Last time? How many times has he come over?”

  There was a brief silence, then Cami said faintly, “Four.”

  “Four times? In a week? Cami, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “We haven’t really talked.”

  “That’s true. I’ve been busy. And it sounds like you have, too.”

  “Not like you think. I mean, we haven’t slept together or anything. And he doesn’t stay long, usually. He just comes over and we sit out on my deck and have a beer or wine, talk about things.”

  “Things? What kind of things?”

  “Sometimes he talks about cases he’s worked on, but mostly we talk about personal stuff. You know. Things we did when we were kids, old girlfriends—
my ex—what we want in life. Stuff like that.”

  It sounded serious. Harley got alarmed. The only thing she’d ever known Bobby Baroni to take seriously was his job. Cami might get hurt, and she didn’t need another disappointment.

  “Hey,” she said, “I’m about to go check out a few family alibis. Wanna go with me?”

  Cami sounded surprised. “Are you involved in this case, Harley? Bobby said—”

  “Keep in mind that Bobby thinks like a cop. It’s a flaw or a virtue, depending on which side you’re on. So. Go with me. I just want to be sure my cousins are telling the truth about where they were when Harry Gordon was killed.”

  “The gruesome twosome?”

  “Those are the ones.”

  “Are they still obnoxious?”

  “They don’t spit anymore as far as I know, but other than that I can’t see that they’ve changed that much.”

  “I have to be back at work at eight tonight. I’m on split shifts. Can I make it home in time to get ready?”

  “Sure. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  Harley should have known better.

  Six

  Cami wore a cute halter top and pair of shorts, and she’d dyed her hair blonde again. She drove her little green Saturn and had the sunroof open, so she had on a baseball cap and sunglasses.

  “You look like a duck,” Harley said by way of greeting. “Now I feel overdressed in my cutoffs and tee shirt. Do you remember where they live?”

  “Thanks for the compliment. Out off Massey Road, right?”

  “I’ll guide, you drive. Got another hat?” She smiled when Cami pointed to the back seat.

  When they arrived, Amanda was in the kitchen. The empty box of Krispy Kremes still sat on the counter near the island sink, and her cousin sported a thin layer of glaze around her mouth. She looked guilty of something, but Harley wasn’t sure if it was gluttony or lying.

  “Hey, Mandy. What’s up?”

  “Why are you back so soon? Mama’s asleep, and—”

  ”Not to worry. I just thought of a few things I’d like to ask you, that’s all. You remember Cami, don’t you, from my old neighborhood?”

  Looking defensive, Amanda crossed her arms over her ample chest and nodded. “Yes, of course I do. How are you, Cami?”

  The niceties over, Harley jumped right in. “So where were you Thursday night? Say, between the hours of six and nine?”

  For a minute, she thought Amanda was going to keel over right there on the kitchen floor. She sucked in air, her eyes got big, and she went so pale she blended right into the white pickled color of the cabinets.

  “Why . . . do you want to know?”

  “Use your imagination. Look, I’m just trying to help out Aunt Darcy. The police intend to solve the case, and they have a tendency to ask unpleasant questions. If they haven’t already asked you this, they will. Trust me. They just move at their own speed for their own reasons. If I can, I’m going to make sure all of you are above suspicion. Now. Where were you?”

  “Here.” Amanda’s chin came up, and her round, pretty face took on the expression of a petulant mule. “Just like I told the police. Right here. All night.”

  “Great. So you have proof of that, right? Someone who saw you and can verify that?”

  Amanda blinked. Her lower lip quivered slightly, and a flake of glaze dropped to the front of her blouse. “No. As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

  “Aunt Darcy saw you? Madelyn, maybe?”

  “I . . . I was here alone at that time.”

  Ah, so the lovely and bitchy Madelyn had lied. Not surprising. It had been her best subject in school.

  “Really, Mandy? All alone, huh. Maybe you made some phone calls, talked to someone who can say you were here?”

  “No. I watched TV. One of my favorite shows. And don’t call me Mandy.”

  “Mandy suits you. It’s cute. Friendly, in a puppy dog kind of way. If I were you, I’d go with it. Well, while I’m sure you aren’t involved in any way, you better be prepared for some in-depth police questions when they get back around to you. I assume you already gave a statement of some kind to them?”

  Amanda nodded. “That night. When they came to talk to Mama.”

  “And she was gone when the police came.”

  “Oh no, she was back home by then. Madelyn had Mama’s car, so she picked her up at the meeting and brought her back. They were both here the rest of the night.”

  “Ah. That’s good. Thank you, Mandy. You’ve been a great help.”

  And now I know who was in Aunt Darcy’s car at the shop . . .

  They found Madelyn playing tennis on the courts behind the house. Paul Fontaine had built them a few years before when Darcy flirted with getting physically fit. Apparently, she now had activities of a different physical nature, so a lawn service kept weeds from sprouting in cracks in the asphalt, and that was usually the most action on the courts.

  “What a surprise, Maddie, to find you out here playing tennis in the heat,” Harley said, and smiled when her cousin shot her a sweaty grimace. “You don’t usually do anything that gets you into a lather unless it involves wine, a man, and Mr. Bubble.”

  Madelyn’s partner, a tanned, tall, athletic type who looked as if he regularly made the society pages, caught the tennis ball and bounced it off the court a few times. He seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. As he should be. He had at least twenty years on Madelyn, maybe more.

  Wiping her face with an embroidered terry towel, Madelyn stalked toward Harley where she stood in the shade of a flowering crepe myrtle. Her fair skin was flushed and damp, and her crisp tennis skirt hadn’t lost its snap in the heat. Neither had her tongue.

  “What the devil do you want?”

  “Do I need a reason to visit my cousin?”

  “You’re not here to visit. You want something. Get to the point, Harley.”

  “What a suspicious nature you have, but you’re right this time. I do want something. Like the truth. Where were you Thursday night between six and nine?”

  “At home, just like I told the police.”

  “Wrong answer. You were in Aunt Darcy’s car. Why? Where’s your car?”

  Madelyn’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that? And what difference does it make to you where I was and what I was driving?”

  “Let’s just say, inquiring minds want to know. Besides, the police might be interested to learn that you lied to them.”

  “You wretched little sneak! You wouldn’t!”

  Harley smiled. Madelyn hissed a few nasty words that singed some of the leaves on the crepe myrtle, then she glanced toward the Memphis version of actor George Hamilton before she turned back to say through clenched teeth, “We’ll talk about this in private. Give me a few minutes.”

  “To think of a reasonable lie?”

  “To get rid of Trey so we can conduct family business in private!” Her glance at Cami left no doubt that she did not include her in the family, then she pivoted on an expensively shod foot of spotless white leather and stalked toward the bemused Trey.

  Harley looked at Cami.

  Cami shrugged. “Guess I’ll go talk to Mandy for a while.”

  “Distract her with food and she might say more than she wants.”

  “I’m watching my carbs. But maybe she’ll say something interesting.”

  “You’re on a diet? Why?”

  Waving a hand dismissively, Cami muttered something about fitting back into her size four jeans as she walked off. Harley watched her for a moment. There might be more between Cami and Bobby than she’d thought. That could be interesting. Or disastrous. With Bobby, it was a toss-up. To the despair of his stereotypical Italian mother, Bobby had commitment issues. He’d never married, nor expressed the least interest in having a long-term relationship. Instead, he had the habit of choosing totally unsuitable women so that friends and family were relieved when the relationship finally ended. The only exception had been Harley, but that’d been when they were sti
ll teenagers and it’d never been serious, just an experiment both had decided to end quickly. It had turned into a friendship they both maintained without much effort. Most of the time, it worked well. On occasion, Bobby irritated her into avoiding him, and vice versa.

  But Cami was different. She was vulnerable. Her ex-husband Jace had done a number on her and destroyed any self-esteem Cami had left. For a while, Harley had thought she wouldn’t recover from the divorce. The menagerie that Cami kept, as a volunteer animal rescue worker in the spare time she had from her job at the telephone company, had temporarily convinced Harley that her best friend had lost her mind. Then she’d decided it was just Cami’s way of coping with being alone. Surrounded by needy dogs and cats was more than enough companionship for anyone. She hoped Cami didn’t get too emotionally involved with Bobby. He was much better as a friend than a boyfriend.

  “Lord, Harley, you look like you’ve been trawling racks at the Salvation Army. But then, you usually do. Don’t you own decent clothing?”

  Madelyn, of course. Harley turned around. “How nice of you to notice. That won’t work, though. I still want to know where you were Thursday night and why you were in your mother’s car instead of your own.”

  “You’ve always been too damn nosy. Too bad you and your hippie parents didn’t stay in California with Charles Manson.”

  “Well, I did learn a lot from dear old Chuck, so don’t push it.” Sometimes Madelyn could be a real bitch, but not even she could really believe Diva or Yogi would ever have even known Manson. If she was working this hard to distract Harley, she really did have something to hide.

  “I liked it better when we saw each other once a year,” Madelyn said, and Harley nodded.

  “So did I. Now. Answer my questions and I’ll go away. It’s very simple.”

  “If you must know, I borrowed Mama’s car because one of my tires needed air and I had an errand to run.”