“The question is, can I help you?”
He twisted in head in confusion. “Excuse me?”
I extended my hand. “I’m Gabriella and I have a cleaning service. I’m trying to drum up business in the area, so I’m going around from house to house and offering one free basic cleaning in hopes that you’ll consider my services.”
He paused. “You want to clean my house? For free?”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“Do I have to sign something? Buy something? Commit to anything?”
“Absolutely not. I only ask that if you like my work that you’ll consider me for the future or tell anyone you may know, who’s in need of a cleaner, about me.”
He looked from side to side again, and my heart stopped a moment as I feared he’d seen Riley. Finally, he looked back at me. “You’re really a cleaner?”
I nodded. “I am. I was a teacher, but I lost my job when the economy went south. So now I’m cleaning houses and I find I quite enjoy helping people get their homes back in order.”
I waited for his reaction. He continued to try and size me up. Finally, a grin broke across his face. “I like that. I lost my job too awhile back, so I know what that’s like. I work at a gas station now. What can I say? It helps to pay the bills, even if I am helping to deplete the ozone layer by selling a product that’s bad for the environment.”
I nodded. “I know. I hope the new government regulations will make it harder for people to buy those gas guzzling vehicles. It should be a felony.”
“I agree. It’s like they enjoy torturing Mother Earth.”
“You gotta take care of Mama E.”
He grinned again. “I like you. And I’d like you to come spiffy up the place. I can’t promise you I’ll be able to hire you afterward, though I could try to recommend you to some friends.” He shifted his weight. “Do you use environmentally friendly cleaning products?”
I used my most incredulous expression. “Of course. Vinegar and water. Sometimes some lavender oil. All natural stuff.”
“Can you come tomorrow?”
“You name the time.”
“Eight o’clock. I have to leave for work at nine. Will that be okay?”
I nodded. “Of course. I’ll do what I can in the time I’m here.”
He reached over and touched one of the overgrown shrubs in front of his house. My throat went dry as I wondered if he would see Riley and this whole operation would be uncovered. My heart pounded in my ears as I waited for what would happen next.
“You don’t do lawn work too, do you?”
I wanted to laugh in relief. Instead, I said, “All I have to do is look at a plant and it dies. Sorry.”
“I understand.” He looked me over and smiled again. Chills raced over me at his obvious interest. What was I doing? He could be a dangerous man. “I’ll take what I can get.”
Sierra, I reminded myself. I had to think of Sierra.
I tried to offer a winning grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“I’ll see you then.”
***
“Are you crazy? You can’t be alone with that man in his apartment!” Riley crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me from the moment we climbed into the car.
“It’s the only way I can think of to find out what he knows.”
“Gabby, I don’t like this. Didn’t someone tell you that they think he could be an ecoterrorist? Doesn’t the word ‘terrorist’ have any meaning to you at all?”
“Of course it does. I’m going to be careful.”
“I can name a million other times in the past when you were ‘careful’ and you almost died.”
“A million? You’re exaggerating just a little, don’t you think?”
“You know what I’m saying, Gabby. This is a bad idea.”
I put my hand on his knee, trying to get his neurons to stop firing at such a rapid pace. “I’m going to be fine. I’m going to clean, look around a bit, and then leave.”
His jaw twitched as he drove, and I knew he wasn’t happy. Silence stretched between us. I tried to think of something to say that might snap him out of this mood, but not a thing came to me.
Finally, I noticed that we turned in the opposite direction of our apartment. “Where are we going?”
He continued to look straight ahead. “We’re meeting Lydia Harrison for coffee.”
“Lydia Harrison?”
“I took the liberty of calling her to see if we could talk.”
“That was… awfully nice of you.”
“Yeah, at least I can be there with you when you talk to her. I’ll have some measure of comfort in that fact.”
“Riley…” Again, I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I settled for “thank you.”
***
I stared at Lydia Harrison, and I suddenly knew what it meant when people said, “to shoot daggers with your eyes.” The woman had such an air of confidence about her that I wanted to throttle her. Instead, I gripped my chair so hard that my knuckles hurt. “So you have no idea who Sierra is? Are you sure?”
Lydia shook her head, her hair not moving even a fraction of centimeter with the action. She took another sip of her fancy coffee—which she did indeed drink with her pinky raised—and kept her eyes on Riley. “I’m positive. Why would I know this Sierra you’re speaking of?”
I closed my eyes and willed myself to remain calm and collected. Maiming someone at an expensive coffeehouse wasn’t on my bucket list. “She said you had answers.”
Lydia circled her French manicured finger in the air and looked at me blankly…or was she just acting? “Rewind some. The answers to what?”
“Who bombed your husband’s office building and set fire to his housing development.”
Her composure broke, but only for a moment. Immediately, she snapped back to her intensely controlled demeanor. She obviously wanted to call the shots in this conversation. Most likely, she wanted to call the shots all the time. She just seemed like that kind of person. “Why would I know that information? I have nothing to do with my husband’s company. It doesn’t concern me.”
I leaned toward her. “Your divorce is about to be finalized. Do you stand to gain anything from these incidents?”
“I beg your pardon? What are you accusing me of exactly, Ms. St. Claire?” Lydia’s thin eyebrow popped up, arching with more skill than a gymnast at the Olympics.
Riley put his hand on my arm, effectively stopping me from answering. That was probably a good thing. “Gabby isn’t accusing you of anything, Lydia. She’s just concerned about her friend. Her friend indicated that you had some answers.”
“I don’t know what exactly these elusive answers are. I have no idea why someone would blow up my husband’s business.” She paused and tapped her finger a second. “Well, that’s not exactly true. He does have a lot of enemies.”
“Like who?”
“Well, there was the environmental group who claimed he was wasting our nation’s natural resources by building on the property where the fire occurred.”
Check, I knew that. I’d add them to my list of people to question, though.
“And there’s that community group who already thinks we have enough traffic in the area where he wanted to build. A bunch of conspiracy theorists if you ask me.”
“Okay.” I could check them out, I supposed.
“Oh, and don’t forget that Native American group.”
“Native American group?”
“Right. They found some bones when they began to prep the area for the housing development. Turns out it was the ancient burial ground for a local tribe. James went through all the hoops to get the remains moved. There were some natives who were not happy about all of that, though.”
“Interesting.”
She smirked. “I’d say.”
“Can I talk to your ex?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Where can I find him?”
She shrugged. “I coul
dn’t tell you. I haven’t spoken with him in weeks.”
I bit my lip and leaned back in my chair.
I had to find Sierra. But how would I do that when every road led to a dead end?
***
“What next, detective?” Riley asked as we walked back to his car. The snow had never really started. The sky just seemed to randomly release cold spittle at will. Every once in a while, a piece of chilly ooze would find my cheeks. Otherwise, a brisk wind slapped any exposed skin it could find—mostly my toes, which, unfortunately, were unhindered in my flip flops. Flip flops in the winter? Don’t worry. These were my wool-lined ones, designed especially for crazy people like me who wanted to wear the shoes year-round.
“So many choices, I hardly know where to start. I want to know more about this Native American group. Can I use your smartphone?” I climbed into his car, embracing the shelter from the wind and elements.
He slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. Heat poured out from the vents as he handed me his phone. “Here you go.”
“Perfect.” I waited for the Internet to load. “I’m so glad you make enough money to have a phone with 4G.”
He pulled out of the parking space, the light from the gray sky outside outlining his profile. Just seeing him and having him beside me brought such a measure of peace. “I remember when 4G was my seat at a baseball game.” He ran a hand through his hair and stole a glance at me. His eyes twinkled. “I think I’m getting old.”
I shrugged, knowing better than to pass up an opportunity. “You do still have a landline phone, so the odds are stacked against you in the age department right now.”
He cut his gaze toward me. “What’s wrong with a landline phone?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, other than the fact that only people over thirty have them.” I didn’t really have room to talk since Riley was only three years older than me. But I did it anyway.
He scowled and pointed to his phone. “Did you find anything?”
“There’s one mention of the group here in a newspaper article. The tribe is the Mishcosk. There’s one person who acts as the group’s spokesperson. He’s quoted here in the article. Let me see if I can find his contact information.”
I did a quick search and, what do you know, he was listed online. I made a quick call and he agreed to meet us at the housing development in thirty minutes. Easy enough. Too easy?
“We’re not any closer to having answers, are we?” Riley gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white.
“I don’t even know if we’re looking in the right direction. I just know I have to keep looking.”
We pulled up to the housing development and stepped out of Riley’s car. I squinted against the deceitfully bright sun, a sun that made it seem warmer than it really was. The wind bit through my clothing as its breezes swept across the river beside us.
The land really was lovely, located on the banks of the Elizabeth River with tall marsh grasses jutting upward. The construction crew had started to build three houses on prime spots along the river. Now, only one of the houses stood. The other two were ashes.
A lone truck, one in desperate need of a paint job with its dull gray finish, sat at the end of the lane. A tall, broad man leaned against the back, his arms folded over his chest, and his eyes watching us. He didn’t move as we approached, he only stared. His long dark hair was swept back into a neat ponytail, and his honey-colored skin gave him an exotic look.
“That must be Broken Arrow,” I whispered.
“Broken Arrow?”
I shrugged. “That’s his Native American Name. His real name is Wayne Wood.”
“Broken Arrow is way cooler.”
I held out my hand as I approached. “I’m Gabby St. Claire and this is…” I glanced at Riley. How should I introduce him? My friend? My neighbor? My… “… my male secretary, Riley Thomas.”
Riley’s eyes widened until he shook his head, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Just as quickly, he pulled his lips back down in a respectable non-expression.
I turned back to Broken Arrow. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
Broken Arrow didn’t smile or take my hand. He only glared at me, as if I’d done something wrong. I’d done lots of things wrong, but none so specific that he would know about them.
“You have some questions about the burial ground?”
I jammed my hands into my pockets, trying to keep them warm and to erase the awkwardness from the unreturned handshake. “We wondered if it had something to do with the fire here.”
“I’ll tell you like I told the police. We’re a peaceful people. We wouldn’t do this. Why is it your concern?” He spoke slowly, as if he chose each word with precision.
“My friend is being implicated for the crime. I need to prove her innocence.”
He showed his first sign of emotion. He blinked. “Sierra? Your friend is Sierra?”
“You know her?”
He nodded once. “I met her once. She was trying to get a meeting with James Harrison at the same time I was trying to get a meeting with him. We chatted for a few minutes afterward. You don’t easily forget someone like Sierra.”
Not forgetting her was one thing, but … “How did you know she’s being implicated?”
“Her name and picture were on the news today.”
I gasped, but the rush of cold air into my lungs caused me to cough. “What? They can’t do that!”
“They said she’s a person of interest.”
“I can’t believe Parker would do this.” I jammed my fists into my hips.
“He has to do his job, Gabby,” Riley said. “Right now, his job is to find Sierra and get some answers.”
One thing was growing more and more certain by the moment—I had to find Sierra before anyone else did. Her future depended on it.
Chapter Ten
The car ride as we pulled away from the housing development was silent. I chewed on my thoughts, trying desperately to make sense of some of them as the landscape and traffic blended together outside my window. It was no use. Logic eluded me.
Sierra was on the news. Really? Parker had to know she didn’t do this, even if she did look as guilty as sin.
I stared out the window, trying to keep my spirits up, to hang onto that fighting spirit I was known for. As I stared into the side view mirror at the traffic behind us, I straightened.
“Riley, you see that car behind us?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “I see a lot of cars behind us.”
“The maroon, economy type car.” I craned my neck around. “Three cars back.”
His eyes flickered up. “Okay, yeah, I see it.”
“It’s following us.”
Riley quirked an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, a little too adamantly. “Positive. And that’s the same car that was following me on the night Harrison Developments was bombed.”
Riley sighed. “Splendid.”
“Pull over right here. Get into the right lane.”
“Why?”
“I want to lose them from behind us. Then I want to follow them.” The hunter becomes the hunted. Okay, maybe I watched too many movies. But still, I had to find out who was following me.
Riley looked over at me, his eyes widened in shock. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Maybe they’re my connection to Sierra. Maybe whoever is driving that car knows where she is.”
Riley’s jaw twisted, and I could tell he wasn’t keen on my plan. But, to my surprise, he swerved into the right lane and braked. The maroon car didn’t have room to swing into the turn lane. It sped past. I craned my neck trying to get a look at the driver.
Tinted windows. Rats. I could only see an outline.
Riley jerked back into the left lane and began tailing the car. I loved this man. I did.
“I hope I don’t regret this,” he muttered
“If it helps us find Sierra, then
what will there be to regret?”
The driver of the maroon car seemed to sense what we were doing. He accelerated toward a yellow light. I gripped the arm rest as I pondered what Riley would do. Run the red light? Slam on brakes?
The maroon car squealed through the intersection, causing oncoming cars to slam on their brakes. My eyes widened as the scene unfolded in front us. I waited to hear the crunch of metal. I waited to feel the impact of a crash.
Riley pressed on the brakes until we came to a screeching halt. My racing heart pounded in my ears as the car froze.
“Sorry, Gabby. I couldn’t do it.”
“It’s okay.” I glanced over at him. “Something’s going on here, Riley. I have no idea what it is. I can’t talk to Mark Daniels until tomorrow when he gets to work. I hate feeling so helpless.”
“You’re doing everything you can, Gabby.”
“There has to be something I’m missing. I just don’t know what it is.”
My cell phone beeped. I didn’t recognize the number so I answered with, “Trauma Care.”
Someone else needed me to clean a crime scene as soon as possible. I supposed I had nothing better to do at the moment—at least, I couldn’t think of what it was. I wanted to track down clues and follow the evidence, but I’d come to a dead end. I might as well earn some money.
“Another job?” Riley asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, another one.”
“I’m going with you.”
“I’m going to have to put you on payroll if you keep coming with me.”
“When’s Chad getting back?”
“He called this morning and said he’d decided to stay all week. I told him I could hold the fort down while he was gone.”
“But can you?”
I shrugged. “I just know that forcing Chad to come back here and work instead of skiing is a fast way to get him to quit. He’s a free spirit and isn’t great at the whole ‘being tied down’ thing.”
“Are you talking about working together or a romantic relationship?”
I glanced at Riley, surprised by his question. He rarely asked me about my dating life, yet he sounded so earnest right now.
Organized Grime (Squeaky Clean Mysteries) Page 7
