SIXTEEN
“Nora? Hey, Nora!” A male voice cut through the haze of fog that enveloped my brain. “Twice in one night is a little much for this, don’t you think?”
I winked one eye open. I saw the black, starless sky above me and cautiously moved one hand. I could feel a thin blanket beneath my body, and as my fingers explored further, felt a few rough blades of grass. I moved my head slightly to the left, caught an arrowed glimpse of Daniel’s pale face as he checked my pulse.
I coughed. “Did anyone get the number of the tree that hit me?”
“Very funny.” Daniel’s voice was tinged with concern. “This could have been a lot worse, you know. You’re lucky that Patty and Frank Saul were on their way back from spending an evening with his sister in St. Leo.”
I turned my head slightly to the right. Off to the side of the knoll I saw a tan Cadillac, and leaning against it were the Sauls. The elderly couple were good customers of mine at Hot Bread, came in at least twice a week, and sometimes Frank made an extra stop if he was out that way walking his two dogs, Lois and Lola. I’d have to remember to give the Sauls lunch on the house the next time they stopped in. “Nice to see there are Good Samaritans left in the world.”
“They saw you run off the road and called it right in. The minute I heard the description of the vehicle, I knew just who it was.” He peered down at me. “You’re a careful driver, that I know. Care to tell me what happened?”
I hesitated. This was the perfect opportunity to come clean with Daniel, to tell him everything, particularly about my motel break-in but . . . it all came back to the burden of proof. There was nothing concrete that indicated the stone I’d found had anything to do with Daisy’s murder. For that matter, there was nothing to indicate that whoever had run me off the road was after the stone. It could just have been a careless or drunk driver, although deep down I didn’t really believe that. No, best to wait a bit until I had everything sorted out. “I was minding my own business, just out for a little drive and I guess . . . I lost control of the car.”
Daniel’s lips were slashed in a straight line. “So a dark-colored sedan had nothing to do with this, eh?”
“A dark sedan?” I tried to sit up, discovered my head hurt like the dickens, and flopped back down on the grass again. “Where’d you get that from?”
“Both Frank and Patty say they saw one try to ram your rear fender before you took off up the hill.” He put his thumb under my chin and raised my face to his. “It’s two-thirty in the morning. You do remember promising me you were going to go straight home?”
“I promised to go straight home, and I did.” I moved one arm down the length of my body, indicating my change of clothing. “I never said I’d stay there. I couldn’t sleep. I thought a drive would help.”
The pounding in my head stilled a bit, so I sat up again, this time successfully. I moved my hand, felt my rib cage gingerly. “Nothing seems to be broken but it sure hurts like hell. Bruised, most likely.”
“Apparently you weren’t going fast enough to cause too much damage to either yourself or your car,” Daniel said dryly. “You’re a bit banged and bruised but it’s mostly from the airbag deployment. We’ll get you checked out at the hospital, though, just to be on the safe side.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No hospitals. I hate them.”
“Who likes ’em? I’m afraid, though, this isn’t your call,” he said firmly. “You’re going.”
I saw lights flash out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw an ambulance making its way up the grassy knoll. I also saw a tow truck from Fagin’s Garage preparing to hook my SUV to its back end.
“Your car doesn’t appear to be too badly damaged,” Daniel said in response to my unspoken question. “Really, Nora, you were very lucky.”
“I’ve got nine lives, just like my cat.” Which reminded me—where was Nick? I craned my neck, but didn’t see him anywhere around. The last thing I remembered was his leaping out of the passenger side window . . . with the pouch. The photograph of Daisy and Alexa Martin, though, should still be in my purse. I started to rise, felt woozy, and dropped back down to the blanket. “I need to look in my purse,” I murmured.
Daniel brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. “Why is it women always want a comb and mirror in a crisis? You look fine,” he assured me.
“Not that,” I croaked. “I don’t care what I look like. I mean, I do, but . . . I just . . . need to see my purse.”
Daniel straightened and said something to one of the EMTs. A few minutes later the guy returned with my black purse in tow. He handed it to Daniel, who dangled it in front of my eyes.
“Here it is, safe and sound. Feel better now?”
I reached out a hand. “Can I see it? I just need to make sure everything’s still there.”
“Do you mean this?” Daniel pulled an oblong object out of his pocket and held it up. My stomach lurched as I recognized Daisy’s purloined motel room key.
“It was lying on the grass by the driver’s door.” Daniel waved it before me. “Am I correct in assuming your little nocturnal activities involved a visit to this room?”
“I can explain.” I pressed a hand to my head. The little vein above my right eye was suddenly throbbing like a sonofabitch. “Just not right now.”
Daniel slid the key into his jacket pocket. “Why do I have the feeling this key belonged to Daisy Martinelli?”
I swallowed. “I’ll have to plead the Fifth right now.”
“There is such a thing as interfering with a police investigation, you know. Particularly when it involves murder. Dammit, Nora.” Daniel ran his hand through his hair. “Have you forgotten you were attacked tonight, in addition to being run off the road? Someone apparently thinks you’re onto something.”
“Yeah, well, then they know more than I do.”
He ran his hand through his hair again, riffling the sides just a little, giving him that tousled, oh-so-sexy look that had attracted me to him from the get-go. “Don’t think this is over. I’ve got a lot of questions for you, young lady.”
“I might have a few for you, myself.” I let out a shaky breath. “Did something happen with the grimoire tonight?”
He wagged his finger at me. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not,” I protested. “It’s just that I can’t help feeling the grimoire figures in this somehow. I’m just not sure how big a part it plays. As for why I had Daisy’s key, I’ll tell you. Violet asked for my help in tracking down her missing niece, and I have reason to believe Daisy knew more about that than she let on. I was hoping to get some more information out of her, but then she was murdered.”
Daniel’s brows knit together. “Violet has a niece?”
“Yes. And she asked me to keep all this confidential, so I really can’t say any more without her permission.”
Two EMTs rushed over just then and Daniel moved aside. “This conversation isn’t over,” he whispered in my ear. He glanced at the two attendants. “Take good care of her.”
The bigger of the two bent over me, and I recognized him—Mickey Dugan, who worked construction with his brother Harvey. He liked my Thin Man Tuna Melts, too.
“Mickey,” I said. “You’re an EMT volunteer?”
“Yep.” He grinned at me. “This is my first night on the job, too. You’re my first accident, Nora.”
“Swell,” I murmured. I pressed a hand to my temple. “Say, why is everything spinning?”
And then my world went black for the third time that night.
* * *
“Feeling better?”
“Not really.” I groaned and threw my hand over my eyes to block the glare of fluorescent lights. I turned my head in the direction of the speaker. Samms was sitting in the chair next to my bed, thumbing idly through a magazine. “What,” I croaked, “it’s you
r turn to watch me again?”
“Someone obviously has to.”
I swiped at my eyes. “How long have I been out?”
“A couple hours. You needed the rest.” He set the magazine down and stood up, walked to the side of the bed. “You are a very lucky woman. Usually a vehicle rolls over upon the impact of hitting a tree. All you got was a crumpled hood and a deployed airbag, which probably kept you from being more severely injured. Instead of head or face injuries, or damage to your chest or pelvic areas, apparently all you got is a few bruised ribs.”
“Yeah, well.” I touched my side gingerly. “We Charles women come from tough stock.”
He didn’t answer, just gestured toward the foot of the bed, where a neatly folded pile of clothing rested. “Doc Morris says as soon as you feel well enough to walk, you can go home. You’ll feel a bit banged up for a few days, but just stay on the medication”—he indicated a small bottle on a nearby table—“and you should be back to full speed in a few days.”
I eyed him warily. “And you’re here because?”
“I’m here to make sure you do just that. No more little side trips to motels, or nighttime sleuthing excursions.”
“Daniel told you to do this.”
“Daniel would have done it himself, only he’s a tad preoccupied at the moment.” He tilted his head. “I, ah, volunteered.”
“You did? Well, wasn’t that nice of you?”
“I thought it was the least I could do,” he answered, “considering.”
“Considering?”
Both corners of his lips turned up. “Our illustrious past, of course.”
We were both silent for a long, awkward moment and then I huffed, “I thank you for your concern; however, I’ve no need of a babysitter.”
“You sure about that, Red?”
In answer, I threw back my blankets and swung my feet over the side of the bed. An icy chill raced up and down my spine and across my back. I reached out, curled my fingers in the side of the bed for added support.
A nurse bustled in at that moment and took in the scene before her with a tight-lipped stare and hands fisted on ample hips. “Ms. Charles, you shouldn’t be out of bed just yet. You’re still sedated.”
No shit. I sat down on the edge of the bed and took a few deep breaths. “I’ll be fine,” I ground out. I tossed Samms a significant look. “Some privacy to get dressed would be nice.”
He tossed my look right back at me. “I’ll be right outside this door. Don’t even think of trying to sneak out of here without me.”
Once he’d gone, I ripped off the hospital gown and reached for my clothes. A wave of dizziness swept over me, but I steeled myself and waited for it to pass. I caught a look at my naked body in the mirror on the back of the door and winced. Bruises the color of grapes were all over my sides and back. I had two gigantic elastic bandages wrapped around my rib cage. Other than that, it seemed to be business as usual. I slid my clothes on and banged open the door. Samms lounged against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, a cocky grin on his face. I took a tentative step forward and felt my knees wobble. His hand shot out to steady me and I caught a flutter of . . . something; a spark as his hand brushed my arm. Instinctively, I pulled back. “I’m fine,” I whispered.
He took a step back, almost as if my touch had burned him. “Okay. My car’s out front. You’re going home, and this time you’re going to stay there.” He offered me a lopsided grin. “Since your wheels are out of commission, chances of you making another nocturnal run are slim at best. Oh, and don’t bother trying to enlist Chantal’s aid. We’ve already read her the riot act of what will happen if she even tries to assist you in one of your cockamamie schemes.”
I coughed. They were probably right. I still felt a bit woozy and my ribs hurt like all get out.
I fell slowly into step beside him. “How did Chantal sound? She wasn’t too worried, I hope.”
“You’ve got a real loyal friend there. She wanted to come right down and see how you were, and it took all my charm to convince her that wasn’t necessary. She said that you shouldn’t worry about opening Hot Bread, she’d take care of it, and stay as long as it takes.”
I halted and stared at him. “As long as what takes? My recovery?”
“For you to explain to Daniel and me just what you were doing at the Cruz Motel last night—or should I say earlier this morning.” He leaned toward me and said in a heavily accented voice, “And believe me, Lucy, you’ve got a lot of ‘splaining to do.”
My lips, probably the only spot on my body that didn’t throb, twisted into a wry grin. “Your Spanish accent sucks.”
He made a rumbling sound deep in his throat and turned his back. I couldn’t help it; I gave into my inner fourteen year old and stuck my tongue out. My hand closed over my purse. I’d checked and the photo of Daisy and Alexa was still there, right where I’d put it. Maybe with a little luck I’d have some good answers before Daniel and Samms started their inquisition. I knew I couldn’t hide anything from them for too long, nor did I want to.
Dawn was streaking the sky as Samms pulled up in front of my house. He cut the engine, and before you could say “Easter bunny,” had hopped out of the car and come around to open the passenger door. I accepted his arm and let him lead me up the walkway to the rear entrance that led straight up to my apartment. I pulled my key out and turned to give him a tight smile.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine now.”
He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m seeing you upstairs.”
“I’m fine, honest.” I lifted first one leg and then the other. “See! And I don’t feel a bit woozy.” Well, that was a lie, but what the heck. It wouldn’t be the first one I’d told.
He took the key from my hand. “All part of the job,” he said. “Just making sure you don’t have any unexpected visitors lying in wait for you. Besides, Daniel left me specific instructions.”
“I’ll bet,” I murmured.
Samms started to fit the key into the lock and suddenly stopped, his heretofore pleasant expression turning into a deep frown. “You locked up before you left?” At my nod, he pointed to the lock. “It’s been forced open. Looks like you’ve had some visitors.”
Samms pushed the door open and we went into the small entryway. “Wait here,” he whispered and then he was off, moving soundlessly up the stairs. He disappeared into my apartment and I leaned against the stair rail, my heart pounding. Five minutes passed, then ten, and I was just about to follow him upstairs when he poked his head out, wearing as grim an expression as I’d ever seen. He motioned to me with his hand. “Come on up.”
I hurried up the stairs as fast as I could. When I reached the top I called out, “Where are you?”
“In your den.”
I stopped dead on the den threshold. Every drawer in my desk had been removed and the contents scattered across my shag rug. The recliner lay on its side, and the cushions from my loveseat had been thrown carelessly in one corner. My laptop had been pushed off the desk but fortunately hadn’t been smashed. DVDs and books had been pulled off the shelves and lay in assorted piles throughout the room.
“Take a look,” Samms said tersely. “Can you tell if anything’s missing?”
I swallowed. I had a good idea of what whoever had done this might be looking for, but I also didn’t have the faintest idea if Nick was here, or if he’d brought the pouch with him. I moved slowly around the room and finally shook my head. “If anything was taken, I sure can’t tell.”
He snorted, and then we repeated the same procedure in my bedroom (where Samms got a good eyeful of my entire Victoria’s Secret underwear collection thrown madly about) and the kitchen.
“Someone was definitely looking for something,” Samms remarked. “Any idea what it might be?”
Once again, the perfect opportunity to come clean, and once again, I passed
it up. “I didn’t take a complete inventory, of course, but everything appears intact.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “That’s not what I asked.”
“If I knew for certain what this person was after in my home, I’d tell you,” I said. I brushed a hand across my eyes. “Do we have to call the police?”
His lips twigged upward. “Well, technically, I am the police so . . . no. I’ll file the report. But you’re going immediately to bed, right?”
“Right. My body aches too much to do otherwise.”
He looked as if he didn’t quite believe me, but in the end he left. Once he’d gone, I stripped off my clothes, pulled on my comfy pajamas, and went into my kitchen to make a cup of tea. I reached for the kettle and jumped as something warm and furry twined itself around my ankles.
“Nick,” I cried. Even though it hurt to bend over I did it anyway, scooping the portly kitty into my arms and placing a big wet one on his cheek. “Goodness, I was worried about you. And thanks for taking off like that, bud, although I can understand why you did it. No sense in the two of us getting injured on the job. Did you see who did this?”
Nick looked at me, and then he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
I buried my face in his ruff. “The important thing is you’re all right. Did you bring the pouch back with you?”
Nick let out a plaintive meow and I set him back on the floor. He waddled into the den and into the farthest corner of the room, scrabbling at something just out of my range of vision with his paw. I walked over and saw him squatted in front of a small bookcase pushed up against the wall. His paw was wedged in a small opening between the two that couldn’t have been more than a quarter inch. I bent over, gingerly of course, because my ribs still hurt like hell—and wiggled my hand in as far as it would go. I touched soft leather, and after a few minutes pulled out the pouch.
Crime and Catnip Page 13
