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

by Brown, Virginia

  “Well . . . I have to admit, you’ve somehow managed to help despite yourself. If it wasn’t for you, maybe the police would never have found that other body.”

  “True. No one even remembered that old cellar was there. Except, obviously, whoever killed Harry and Julio.” She thought for another moment, then said, “It all comes back to Cheríe Saucier. She worked with Harry. She knew that cellar was there. It had to be where they hid the stuff they were smuggling into the country. Homeland Security isn’t checking all the cargo brought in on ships, so anything brought in like illegal ivory and endangered animal skins, or a few artifacts or any of that stuff would just be invoiced as merchandise. I’ll bet there’s a shipping manifest of some kind in Harry’s home office.”

  “Harley—no.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure the police have already searched. Wait a minute!” She sat up straight and smacked her forehead with her open palm. “Of course! It must be in that ivory box that Anna got from Cheríe. Or Frieda. Or whatever name she’s using at the moment.”

  “Shipping manifests? Is it a big box?”

  “Oh. No. It’s a small box.” Harley leaned back into the chair again. After a moment she said thoughtfully, “Though it’s completely possible that the box has a key in it, to a safety deposit box, or a safe, something like that.”

  “So tell the police.”

  “I did. I told Bobby all I knew about the box. Maybe I should call back and tell him why I think it’s important.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Harley.”

  Already reaching for Cami’s cordless phone, Harley shrugged. “All he can do is hang up on me.”

  After five minutes of listening to Bobby tell her to butt out of police business or he’d have her arrested for obstruction, interference, and God only knew how many other threats, Harley said, when he paused for breath, “I take it you’re no longer interested in my assistance.”

  There was a long silence, then Bobby said tersely, “Give the phone to Cami.”

  She handed it over, sipped at her watered down sweet tea and stared glumly at one of the dogs lying in the shade. It was discouraging to be so unappreciated.

  Cami mostly listened, said a few “Uh huhs,” then hung up from Bobby and looked at Harley. “You okay, sweetie?”

  “I’m fine. I should have known he wouldn’t listen.”

  “It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that . . . well . . . ”

  “I know. He’s hampered by things like search warrants and proper police procedures. I’m not.”

  “Oh God. Please don’t go anywhere. Bobby said he’d arrest you himself if you didn’t stay out of this. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you.”

  “Don’t worry, Cami. I’m not really up to it right now. I’ll hang around here for a while.”

  “If only I could believe that.”

  “It’s true. I’m not going off. In fact, I’ll walk your dogs for you while you’re at work.”

  “I have four dogs, Harley.”

  “Two at a time, then. Just show me where you keep their leashes. Isn’t there a lake behind your house somewhere?”

  “In the apartment complex down the block. There are also ducks and geese.”

  “Diva is so uncanny. She warned me about the goose, just like with the pug.”

  Cami nodded in understanding. “I remember her doing that kind of thing.”

  “If only she could be more specific, it’d certainly help. Of course, she likes to think she’s helping with my mental and emotional growth when she tells me just enough to get me in trouble and not enough to help me avoid it.”

  While Cami got ready to return to work for her second shift, Harley chose the first two dogs she’d volunteered to walk. A fat beagle named Ranger and a frisky golden retriever mix named Baby barked excitedly when she waggled the leashes.

  “Sure you can handle this?” Cami asked rather dubiously, and Harley shrugged.

  “Of course. Nothing to it. Dog walking is not brain surgery.”

  “As long as you don’t run into some guy walking his Doberman. Then it might require surgery.”

  “Ah, I’ll get my pepper spray.”

  “Take the garage door opener with you. Here. And go out the back door so the other dogs don’t try to get past you. They think they should all go at the same time. Oh, and watch for cats. They regularly try to get out.”

  “Jeez, Cami, do you have to go through this all the time?”

  Cami just smiled. “So, want to put your car in the garage?”

  “I’m on my bike, but yeah, maybe I should. Hold back the hounds.”

  Harley went outside while Cami hit the button to raise the garage door, then wheeled her bike inside. She parked it next to Cami’s green Saturn. A fan in the middle of the garage ceiling kept it from getting too hot in there, and though there was lots of stuff stored alongside the walls, there was plenty of room. A long window let in daylight, and looked out on Cami’s next door neighbor. Except for traffic, the neighborhood was fairly quiet.

  It all seemed so safe.

  Twelve

  Dog walking was not her forte, Harley decided. Or Cami’s dogs were particularly ill-trained. They wanted to go in opposite directions at the same time, had no concept of the words heel, or stay, or even no, and the elderly fat beagle had peed on her shoe instead of the bush he was aiming for. Her arm sockets ached from where they’d tried to do a two-minute mile and she’d tried to slow them down. She was in no mood to walk the other two, but there didn’t seem to be much choice. They stood at the door waiting and wagging, with feral gleams in their eyes that vowed trouble if she reneged on her promise.

  When she got back to the house, staggering from the drag on her arms by two energetic dogs that seemed determined to run instead of walk, the yard man was there. His pickup truck held a lawn mower and gardening tools, and he’d parked in front of the house. Harley managed a nod in his general direction as she stumbled toward the garage door and pushed the button on the opener. It whined upward and the dogs dashed inside toward the back door, dragging her with them. She barely got the door opened before they were both at the water bowls Cami kept filled. Harley headed for the fridge. A cold beer might undo some of the damage her bright idea of dog walking had done. Then she remembered that Cami kept the beer and wine in the old fifties GE refrigerator in the garage, and stepped into the garage to get one.

  One of the two yard men stood in the driveway wearing a loose shirt and big straw hat that shaded his face from the sun. She gave him a wave and said she’d unlock the gate for him to mow the back yard. Sweat dampened her hair and shirt. It hadn’t seemed that hot before she’d started, but maybe having to run the entire way back made a difference.

  On her way back into the house, she hit the garage door button to close it against the west sun. It cranked noisily down as she went inside. After opening the gate for the yard men, she hit the couch with a sigh and her beer. The ceiling fan was on high, the wooden blinds were closed against the sun, and the remote was within reach on the glass-topped coffee table. Heaven.

  Outside, the roar of the mower kept the cats glued to the wide kitchen window, but in the cool shade of the den, the dogs lay exhausted and too content to bother barking. She found an episode of People’s Court that she hadn’t seen, and settled on that.

  She must have fallen asleep. The next thing she knew, Cami was home. Harley sat up in surprise, almost spilling the rest of her beer.

  “Hey, what time is it?” she asked as she set her beer on the coffee table.

  “Nearly nine. You look rested. Or is that exhausted?”

  “Both, I think. Your dogs are manic. They dragged me to the lake and back, and one of them—the fat beagle—tried to tree a duck. It wasn’t pretty. Even the squirrels were laughing.”

  Cami grinned. “Ranger’s eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but his sense of smell is still good. So, have you eaten yet?”

  “Nope. After walking th
e dogs, I fell asleep. Didn’t even wake up when the yard guy left, so you might want to check the gate and be sure it’s locked.”

  “Is that a new pillow beside you?”

  Harley looked down, and to her surprise, Sam the Siamese lay curled up next to her. He was purring, a steady vibration that she could feel as well as hear. When she moved, he opened a sleepy blue eye but didn’t stir until she stood up. Then he stretched, yawning so wide she could see the back of his throat behind the pink tongue.

  “He likes you,” Cami said, and Harley shook her head.

  “He just likes lying next to a warm body. Sometimes I feel the same.”

  “Whatever. One of these days you’ll have to give in.”

  “That will be right after hell freezes over. I’m not a cat person.”

  Sam chose that moment to bump her free hand with his head, sliding under her fingers in an obvious demand to be petted. Reluctantly, she stroked his head a few times, then caught sight of Cami’s smile and stopped.

  “Frozen hell, right,” Cami said when Harley walked past her on the way to the kitchen. “I feel the chill already,” she called after her, but Harley managed to ignore that.

  “Is there a Taco Bell near here?” she asked instead. “I’m feeling peckish, as Janet would say.”

  “Janet?”

  “Grandmother Eaton’s housekeeper. You know, Amanda and Madelyn know more than they’ve said so far. Cousin Maddie was there to see Harry, after all. She must have seen some little thing. Heard something odd. Maybe she didn’t notice it at the time. It might have seemed unimportant. Or maybe she doesn’t want to say who and what she saw there.”

  “You don’t think she’s involved, do you?”

  “With Harry, yes, with the murder, no. She can be a vicious little ferret, but she’s not a killer. I think enough time has passed, and with Aunt Darcy in jail, she might be more honest if I ask her a few questions.”

  “Harley—”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere else. Just to talk to my dear cousins. I’ll turn on my cell phone. Want to go with me?”

  “No. And I don’t want you to go, either. I told Bobby I’d keep you here.” Harley cocked a brow at her, and Cami flushed. “Well, he told me to keep you here.”

  “Bobby means well, but he has control issues. It’s all right, Cami. It won’t take long. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour.”

  Cami looked at her a minute, then sighed. “Better take my car. It’s started to rain.”

  “Thanks. Want anything from Taco Bell?”

  “One of these days you’re going to turn into a taco.”

  “Bean burrito with extra salsa and sour cream.”

  Cami rolled her eyes, an indication she didn’t appreciate the fine dining at Taco Bell. How sad.

  While Cami tended to her zoo, Harley went to freshen up, washing her face and trying to do something with her hair so it didn’t look quite so unkempt. The beauty of her style was that it could go a day or two without brushing and no one could tell the difference but her. And Tootsie. But he was very attentive to things like that.

  “Harley! Come help me!”

  Cami’s shout sent her running to the kitchen, where she found Cami by the open back door. “Good Lord, Cami, what’s going on?”

  “Two of the cats got out. Help me find them, Harley. They might come to you.”

  “Sure. Cats love me.” Despite her sarcasm, Harley helped Cami search the garage for the missing cats. They found one behind the old refrigerator, and the other behind a ladder in the corner. After several scratches and a lot of cussing, the cats were safely inside and Harley went to pour hydrogen peroxide on her wounds. Cami, of course, had not been scratched. Typical.

  “Well, that was fun,” Harley said when she went back into the kitchen. “Now, if there’s nothing else you can think of to keep me here, I’ll just get going. Leave the door unlocked.”

  “Believe me, I’ll still be up. Use the garage door opener. It’s on the driver’s side sun visor. I rarely lock the back door.”

  “That could be dangerous. When you talk to Bobby, tell him—”

  “I won’t lie for you. Not to Bobby.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Cami, I wasn’t going to ask you to lie, but even if I was, why is Bobby so different from anyone else I’d ask you to lie to for me?”

  Cami’s cheeks turned pink, and Harley sighed. She’d been so afraid of this. Despite all Cami’s protests, she was much too attached to Bobby. Something would have to be done about that. Just as soon as she had time.

  “Bobby’s not different,” Cami said defensively, “it’s just that I’m not any good at lying to him. He always seems to know.”

  “No, he’s just always been a good bluffer. Remember strip poker when we were fifteen?”

  “I always thought he cheated.”

  “Well, he did, but even when he didn’t, he could bluff us right out of our dainties. Just tell him to call me on my cell phone if he wants to talk to me, which I’m sure he will when he finds out I left the house.”

  “I’ll just hope he doesn’t call.”

  “Oh, he’ll call. He won’t be able to resist checking up on me.”

  Cami had opened the garage door, and she gave Harley the extra set of keys to her car. “Be careful,” was all she said, but Harley knew what she meant and nodded.

  “I will. This shouldn’t take long. Madelyn was having an affair with Harry and I think it got too sticky. Maybe he threatened to tell Aunt Darcy or something. I don’t know. But a face to face is necessary if I’m going to find out who, what, and when from either of them.”

  “I don’t envy you.”

  “Neither do I.”

  That was true. Madelyn and Amanda could be formidable when they chose to be, both of them quite capable of retreating behind bitchy smoke screens.

  Slinging her backpack into the passenger side of the car, Harley slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Nice. And it was an automatic, another plus. Cami’s car was relatively free of cat hair and dog hair, though a few stray strands were scattered over the front seats. The driver’s window was down, and as she backed out of the garage, Harley hit the button to roll it back up.

  A light rain fell, spattering on the car, and she hit the lights and windshield wipers as she pulled out onto the busy street. Five lanes of traffic ran in front of Cami’s house, but it was fairly quiet this time of night. First, she decided, she’d go to Taco Bell, then eat on the way out to her aunt’s house. Maybe a little onion and garlic in their faces would expedite answers.

  That had to be it. She had to think outside the box, let go of all her theories and be open to new ones. Aunt Darcy hadn’t killed Harry, and as far as anyone knew, had no reason to kill Julio. Of course, business partnerships went wrong all the time, and Julio hadn’t seemed to be the kind of man to prefer argument to action. Harry really had the only obvious motive to kill him. That made sense, since the coroner said Julio died first. But if Julio hadn’t killed Harry, then the most obvious suspects, at least the way the police seemed to be looking at it, were Aunt Darcy and Cheríe. If Harry had been killed by a woman, who put him on the elk horns? It took strength to do that. And rage. It just didn’t fit. This wasn’t a woman’s kind of crime. Not even Cheríe Saucier with her hefty biceps could have lifted a man eight inches taller and at least seventy pounds heavier to hang him on a door.

  Damn. She’d been thinking so hard she’d turned the wrong way, she realized, and swung down a street that led through the neighborhood to go back the right way. About the time she reached the main road, her cell phone rang. She reached over to fumble in her backpack for it. It’d be Bobby, of course.

  “Do not answer that,” a rough voice said from the back seat before she could reach her phone, and she let out a startled yelp. When something hard nudged the back of her head and he added, “Shut up!” she clamped her lips tightly shut.

  Never argue with a man with a gun, she decided as her ce
ll phone quit ringing.

  “Go the way I tell you to,” her stowaway said next, and she realized he had a thick accent. Her stalker?

  This couldn’t be good. She peered into the rear-view mirror, but he nudged her again with the gun barrel and told her to keep driving.

  “How’d you get in here?” she asked after a moment, hoping to keep him diverted while she inched a hand toward her cell phone.

  “Both hands on the wheel, chica. Pull into that driveway. There.”

  “The apartments?”

  “Sí.”

  The apartments, the lake . . . after being dragged down this road and across the grass earlier by dogs, she knew she wasn’t too far from Cami’s house. All she had to do was catch this guy by surprise, abandon the car, and run through the trees to get to safety. Lights were on in apartments ringing the lake, but dark shadows hugged the buildings and stretched to the shore. Trees crowned a slight rise to her left, then sloped sharply downward to more apartments and backed up to the cove right behind Cami’s street. Dogs barked, sounding muffled by the misty rain and low fog. The Saturn’s windshield wipers slapped rapidly back and forth at about the same tempo as her heart rate.

  Using the gun as a prod, he pointed her toward a curve of the lake where cars usually parked to watch the ducks and geese. She put the car in park, wipers still going back and forth, occasionally making a screeching sound when the rain slowed. The engine idled, and she tried to see if anyone was out walking their dogs in the rain. Not a soul, just a few dark shapes by tall reeds that were probably nesting ducks. Where was an attack goose when she really needed one?

  Silence stretched, and for a moment she thought the guy in back had fallen out. She glanced up in the rear-view mirror again and caught a glimpse of dark eyes behind a dark ski mask rimmed in red. To her surprise, the guy climbed over the seats and plopped down on the passenger side, dumping her backpack onto the floorboard. It was dark where they sat, but even with the knit ski mask that covered his head and face there was something vaguely familiar about him. That was puzzling. If it was her stalker, she hadn’t caught even a glimpse of his face the night he’d attacked her.