by JL Simpson
Solomon opened the bedroom door, relieved to find the hallway empty. He snuck down the stairs, avoiding the loose tread. When he got to the front hall he reached over and opened the front door, slamming it hard.
Daisy stepped out of the kitchen. “Going somewhere?”
“I had to check something.”
“Outside?”
Solomon nodded.
Daisy stepped toward him moving her hands from behind her back. His boots dangled from her fingers. She raised an eyebrow. “In bare feet?”
He scrubbed a hand over his hair. Fecking hell. She had him. “I didn't want to dirty your floors.”
“Most people take their shoes off when they come indoors, not when they go outside.” She looked down at his feet. “It's raining.”
“And?”
“Your feet are dry. So, how about the truth? Where were you?”
Solomon tried a winning smile. “Using the bathroom?”
“Nope.”
“Why wasn't I?”
“I put fresh towels in the family bathroom for Sherman on my way downstairs, and I know you weren't in my bathroom.”
Solomon took a breath and opened his mouth to speak.
“And not Sherman's room either. I went in to wake him. So?”
“I can't say.”
“Why?”
Solomon rubbed a hand under his chin. “Don't we have a case to solve?”
Daisy threw his boots on the floor. “I'll find out, one way or another.”
Chapter Sixteen
Daisy took a sip of the coffee Solomon placed in front of her. Milky with four sugars, just the way she liked it. She slid down a little in her seat and considered undoing the top button of her skinny jeans. When she'd wiggled her way into the black pants, she figured Solomon would be making something that wouldn't expand her waistline. Much to her amazement not only had he cooked up a sweet breakfast feast, he'd even joined her in the calorific delight. Sherman had breezed in and wolfed down a half a dozen pancakes with mixed berries and vanilla yogurt and then disappeared upstairs and out the front door to school with barely a word. Apparently finding Solomon in the kitchen and Paul nowhere in sight was nothing to worry about in Sherman's world.
Dirty dishes in hand, Solomon leaned over and started loading the dishwasher. Daisy concentrated on her cup of coffee. She did briefly wonder what sort of exercise resulted in a bum that you could bounce coins off. Paul was no slouch in the butt department. She missed waking up with Paul and his cute bum.
She let out a sigh. She didn't miss sex as much as she missed the idea that she could have sex whenever she wanted. Solomon slammed the dishwasher door shut and Daisy jumped, knocking her coffee cup into her lap.
With a squeal, she leapt to her feet. Solomon grabbed a dishtowel and she snatched it off him mopping up the puddle on the edge of the table before any more of it could drip onto the floor. Solomon smiled. “You do know you're supposed to drink it, not wear it?”
“Very funny.” She tossed the wet dishtowel at him. “I'm going to get changed and then we need to get to work.”
“We've not discussed where we're going.”
Daisy hesitated for a moment. Her research the night before had been a waste of time. Tomas Jenks was no one from nowhere. The way things were going, she would be lucky to find his sister before the end of the year, never mind the end of the week. Liam Sparks was about to be severely disappointed, and she was headed back to a boring office job unless she made a breakthrough, and fast. There was only one line of inquiry left, and as much as she hated to admit it, Solomon had been right. “Didn't you say yesterday that we should go and see Mrs. Sidebottom?”
Solomon stared at her like she'd just announced she was an alien from Mars.
“That is what you wanted, right?”
He frowned. “It is.”
“So why aren't you gloating?”
“I don't gloat.”
Daisy snorted and swept out of the room. The man gloated. The man loved to be in control. The man was a pain in her rear end, and he'd spend the day proving he was right and she was wrong. Maybe that was why he wanted to help her out. Her incompetence gave him a chance to show how brilliant he was. Her failure was one giant ego stroke for a man with an already over-inflated opinion about himself. She had no idea what Belinda saw in him. She had no idea why Belinda had left him. She had no idea about anything anymore.
Skinny jeans changed for a black skirt and matching jacket, and ankle boots swapped for a cute pair of red stiletto heels, Daisy headed downstairs. No doubt Solomon would make some wisecrack about her outfit, but she was going for her own brand of professional. Mrs. Sidebottom might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but the elderly respected people who dressed right. She was sure the old lady would be more willing to talk to someone in a business suit than a ditsy strawberry blonde in a pair of old jeans. Besides, in this outfit, Mrs. Sidebottom would never connect her to the woman who had been flailing around in cow shit in her front yard a couple of days ago.
Solomon was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes never left her as she made her descent. Daisy concentrated on every step. She didn't plan to have any more accidents today. And she certainly didn't plan to humiliate herself in front of Solomon. She met his gaze as she made it safely to the bottom. His focus shifted as he took her in from head to toe. The look in his eyes made her uncomfortable. Where had he been earlier? Had he been hiding somewhere upstairs? In her room? Under the bed? He'd never fit. Had the pervert had been spying on her?
“Where did you say you were while I was showering and getting dressed?”
Solomon raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I didn't. Shall we go?”
* * * * *
Solomon pulled up outside Mrs. Sidebottom's house. Daisy had been quiet for the whole drive. He'd not wanted to push her. He wanted her to succeed, but right now he was almost as lost as she was. How could someone not exist? If the man's identity was a dead end, there was only one option left, but it wasn't an option he planned to use. If Daisy wanted to find Tomas Jenks, she would be the one who made the decision. He switched off the engine and turned in his seat so that he was facing Daisy. “Princess?”
Daisy shifted her focus from Mrs. Sidebottom's house to Solomon. “What?”
He slipped a hand into his inside pocket and pulled out a business card. “I've something for you.”
She frowned. “What is it?”
“Take it and you'll find out.”
She hesitated and he smiled. “I promise you'll like it.”
With a sigh she took the card. She turned it over to examine both sides. “A business card for Jerome Fletcher. It doesn't say what line of business he's in.”
“Because if you have to ask, you don't need his services.”
“What does that mean?”
Solomon opened his door. “The man can find information.”
“What sort of information?”
“Anything you need.”
“How?”
“Don't ask.”
“Is it legal?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
Daisy shoved the card in her handbag. “Probably not.”
“He's a great resource. If you really want to find out who Tomas Jenks is you should call him.”
“Why don't you call him?”
“Because this is not my case.”
“Why are you giving me this?”
Solomon pushed a loose curl behind her ear. “Because I trust you, darlin'.”
Daisy grabbed his wrists, holding his hand hostage. “Why?”
“Despite the damage to my person that you've inflicted in the past, I don't believe you'd deliberately hurt me. Besides, you've had my back more than once.”
She smiled. “I have, haven't I?” She let his hand go and opened her door. “Shall we see what we can find out?”
*
Daisy tugged her jacket straight and glanced at Solomon. With her dressed in a black bus
iness suit and him in his charcoal gray Armani ensemble, they looked like Jehovah's Witnesses touting for recruits—in Solomon's case a really well-off Jehovah's Witness touting for recruits. She rang the bell again and smiled as the chime belted out a tinny version of “Another One Bites the Dust.” She briefly wondered how many different tunes it could play. Once the front door bell stopped chiming, she turned her head to listen. Nothing. No shuffling. No heavy footfalls. Not even the sound of a radio or TV. Mrs. Sidebottom must be out.
Solomon slung an arm around her shoulder. “So, what's the plan?”
She shrugged. “You got any ideas?”
“It's your case, but if it were up to me, I'd go and take a look around the back.”
Daisy shuddered. “Remember the last time we did that?”
“I doubt we could be unlucky enough to find another murder victim with their face blown off.”
A wave of nausea rolled through Daisy's stomach as a vision of the gruesome scene flitted through her head. She didn't want to think about it. Heir hunting wasn't supposed to involve murder. Up until a few months ago she'd never so much as seen a dead person, but ever since she started working with Solomon her life had become littered with people killed in the most horrible ways.
“You feeling okay, Princess?”
She took a deep breath. “Fine.”
He hugged her close to his side. “That's my girl. So, the plan?”
She didn't know what was more disturbing, the thought of dead people, or this new touchy-feely Solomon. He was being strange. Abuse she could handle. Teasing. Hostility. Rudeness. But his softer side was totally terrifying. Sure, she'd seen the gentle caring Solomon before, but only in a time of crisis, and only when she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. He was never nice without a reason.
“Are we going to look around, Princess?”
The squeak of the front gate saved her from having to make a decision.
They turned in unison. Solomon slid his arm down her back with it coming to rest around her waist. If his hand drifted any farther south, she was going to knee him in the balls.
A middle-aged lady with garish red hair, a dumpy figure, and a large shoulder bag stopped halfway up the front path. She squinted at them through a pair of yellow-framed glasses. “Can I help you?”
Daisy shook Solomon off and stepped forward. “We're looking for Mrs. Sidebottom.”
“Maura?”
“Yes.”
“She should be inside.”
“She's not answering the door.”
The woman rummaged around in her huge bag. “What did you want to see her about?”
Solomon grabbed Daisy's elbow before she could answer. “We've some news about her inheritance.”
Key in hand, the woman marched toward the front door. Daisy stepped aside before she was bounced onto her backside. She had no plans to revisit the still barren vegetable patch.
The woman looked at Solomon. “What inheritance?”
Solomon nudged Daisy. Great, apparently she was allowed to speak now. “Her uncle died leaving a substantial sum of money. We need to trace her siblings, and then the money from the estate can be distributed amongst them.”
The woman shoved the front door open and glanced at Daisy. “Fancy that. I wish I had a dead uncle to leave me money but I'd need an uncle first.” She cackled with laughter as she stepped into the house.
“Maura? Maura? It's me, Nancy. I've come to put the hoover round. You've got visitors. Maura, where are you?”
Nancy disappeared down the hallway. Daisy looked at Solomon. “Now what?”
“Now we split up. You take the upstairs and I'll take downstairs.”
“What about Nancy? We can't just march in and search the house.”
“Why not?”
Daisy glanced down the hall and back at Solomon. “What if something's happened to Mrs. Sidebottom?”
“Who better to come to her aid than us?”
Nancy could still be heard grumbling.
Daisy took a deep breath and led the way inside. “Nancy? Have you found her? Shall we help you look?”
Before Nancy had a chance to say yes or no, Solomon shoved Daisy toward the staircase. “See what you can find. I'll distract her.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I'm sure you will.”
He winked and walked down the hall in the direction of Nancy's voice.
Poor Nancy had no idea what she was about to endure. The man would have her head in a spin and she'd agree to anything to please the Irish git. He was like catnip to the female population. All of the female population except Daisy. She thought he was more like kitty litter.
Daisy climbed the stairs and took a deep breath to slow her pounding heart. Even she wasn't unlucky enough to find two dead bodies within days of each other. She eased the door to the first room open. No dead body, but unless Mrs. Sidebottom was even worse at housework than Daisy, someone had trashed the place. The mattress had been flipped off the bed. All the drawers from the dresser were strewn around the floor and the wardrobe door had been wrenched off its hinges.
There was no way Daisy could tell if anything had been taken. Daisy checked the other bedroom and the bathroom. They appeared to be untouched. Whoever had been searching knew where to look.
Daisy jogged downstairs and found Solomon and Nancy in the kitchen going through a pile of mail that lay strewn across the pine table top.
Solomon looked up. “Anything?”
“She's not upstairs.”
Nancy shook her head. “Odd. She never goes anywhere. She must have been here earlier to pick the mail up off the mat. She usually opens it straight away. I never saw anyone so excited about receiving mail.”
Daisy met Solomon's gaze. “I think someone has tossed her bedroom.”
Nancy frowned. “Done what?”
“Unless she's in the habit of trashing her room, I think someone has been searching for something.”
Solomon lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe we should go and take a look, Nancy.”
Nancy grabbed Solomon's arm. “If someone has been in the house, they could still be here.”
Solomon patted her hand. “You ladies stay in the kitchen and I'll go and check it out.”
Daisy snorted. Her hero. He knew damn well no one was up there. If Daisy had met anyone, she'd have screamed loud enough to wake the dead.
Chapter Seventeen
Daisy sat on the front doorstep waiting for the police to finish up with Solomon. Once Nancy had told Solomon that Maura’s jewelry box was missing there had been no convincing him not to call the police. The detective had been giving her the evil eye like it was her fault she stumbled over a dead body one day and then a burglary and apparent missing person the next.
Solomon had stepped in to explain what they had found. He'd even explained that Daisy was an heir hunter and that it was just a coincidence she'd been the center of a police investigation twice in the one week. She'd give her left arm for a stiff drink, or a double shot latte with extra cream and chocolate sprinkles.
Solomon had sent her to the SUV but it was too warm. She didn't get to sit around in the sun very often. A beaten-up red car roared down the street, bouncing over the speed humps. The boy racer behind the wheel mustn't like his suspension very much. The car slowed as it approached Mrs. Sidebottom's. Were they rubberneckers, or was there something more sinister going on? The police car parked across the street would hardly be an unusual occurrence in the neighborhood. When the red sedan continued on its way, Daisy decided paranoia was setting in.
Her bum was going numb from sitting on the cold concrete for over half-an-hour. She pushed to her feet and turned to go back inside the house but found herself spun around and frog-marched down the path toward the street. Solomon's fingers were digging into her upper arm. She struggled and his grip tightened.
“I told you to wait in the car.”
Daisy glanced at him. “What's the rush?”
“There was some discussion about
taking you down to the station for questioning.”
“I've got nothing to hide.”
Solomon snorted. “Do you not?”
“No.”
“So if they search your bag, they'll not find anything belonging to Mrs. Sidebottom?”
Solomon unlocked the SUV, opened the passenger door and manhandled Daisy into the seat. His touch had been way too familiar. Trouble was he was too mad at her to realize what he'd grabbed. Or was he? The passenger door slammed and Solomon raced around the vehicle and leapt in behind the wheel.
“Belt up, Daisy.”
She glared at him as she tugged the seatbelt around herself. “What makes you think I have something in my bag?”
“I saw you take it.”
“You did?” Damn, she thought she'd been very subtle. Everyone had been arguing in the living room. Nancy had tried to convince the police that it was all a mistake and Maura would be back any minute. Solomon thought they needed to concentrate on finding the missing jewelry, convinced it was a burglary gone wrong. The cops had to break up the argument. And while they were all distracted, Daisy had spotted a stack of papers relating to Maura's impending inheritance. What heir hunter wouldn't take a chance like that when it presented itself?
Solomon sped away from the curb, with the same disregard for his vehicle's suspension as the boy racer. “Slow down. You're making us look guilty.”
“You are guilty, Princess. Do you know the penalty for evidence tampering?”
“No. Do you?”
Solomon shrugged. “Not really. But I doubt you'd be going home anytime soon.”
“So you think I should have left the documents there?”
“If the cops had seen you, they'd have known it was important.”
“But they didn't see me and it's not important. Maura going missing has got nothing to do with the dead guy.”
