by Emmy Grace
When I open the door to get in the car, it creaks like a joint that hasn’t been used in a hundred years. Maybe later I’ll tell Mrs. S. that I actually did her a favor by using her beloved baby. Cars are meant to be driven. She needs to drive it!
Then again, I can’t see her taking advice from a young whippersnapper such as myself very well, so I probably need to rethink it. I might be much better served to just ask to borrow it occasionally.
I slide in behind the wheel and yank the door shut. I fire up the engine and it only sputters once or twice. I hope it doesn’t backfire on the streets of tiny Salty Springs and draw undue attention. It’s too late to worry about that now, though. I have a nefarious meeting to catch.
I pull out of the garage and down the drive, then give the car some gas as I pull out into the road. It accelerates quickly and smoothly, which is a nice surprise. Maybe Mrs. S. keeps the engine tuned up when I’m not looking.
I park a block down and across the street from the dentist’s office. Close enough to see who comes and goes, but not close enough to look like I’m watching. I have no idea what time this meeting is supposed to take place, so I slump down in the seat and flip open my guitar case to get out some snacks.
Eight o’clock rolls by and darkness falls. No vehicles have come or gone, or even paused in front of Barry Sleighbaugh’s office.
Nine goes by, then ten. For some reason, I assumed it wouldn’t be too late, which was a mistake on my part. I’m already two Dr. Peppers, a bottle of water, a bag of chips, a candy bar, and some Gobstoppers into this thing, and now I have to pee.
Men really don’t know how good they have it with their plumbing. It’s not like I can use my water bottle or anything. Especially not in skintight, fake leather pants.
As far as I can tell, my options are few. Two to be exact. I can go somewhere to pee and risk missing the criminal summit, or I can sneak into the dentist’s office to use the bathroom. That way if they arrive while I’m indisposed, at least I’ll be onsite and won’t miss much. Not great options, but they’re all I can think of.
Well, there is a third one, but it’s out of the question. Letting it fly in Mrs. Stephanopoulos’ car would be a death sentence. These pants would probably hold in all that liquid until I peel them off later, but who wants to purposely pee their pants?
It’s nowhere on my bucket list. I know that for sure.
So, breaking in it is.
As I slink across the street, it’s not lost on me that Liam might well be right. I have achieved a disturbing level of comfort with illegally entering private property. I might feel bad about it if I weren’t harmless as a kitten. I mean, I’m always on the hunt for the bad guy, so good people have nothing to fear from me. As excuses go, it’s not a legal one. And it’s pretty weak on top of that, but it helps me sleep at night, so I’ll take it.
I creep around back. I feel sure a business like this has an employee entrance. No doctor worth his salt is going to come in from lunch fifteen minutes late and walk through the waiting room where his patients are spending their valuable time awaiting him.
I’m just about to approach the rear door when I see the flash of headlights zoom across the landscape. I hurl my body into the nearby bushes to take cover.
I hear an engine get louder and then shut off. Seconds later, I see more lights, hear another engine, and then it goes silent as well. I hear the snap of two doors opening and then slamming shut. I roll over onto my belly and crawl my way up to a small gap in the bush so I can see out. Then I go dead still.
There is a tiny bit of light from the street lamp illuminating the back entrance. Not enough for me to see much more than shapes. Two people walk to the back door and stop. I hear the jangle of keys followed by the burst of an eerie red glow when the door swings open. Must be the exit sign just inside the building.
As the two people enter, I can see them well enough to make out one face. Dr. Barry Sleighbaugh, as expected. No surprise there. The man with him however…
He’s the stuff nightmares are made of. He’s not very tall, about the height of the dentist, but his head is shaved and covered in spot-like tattoos, just like his bare, muscular arms. His right cheek is sunken and etched with a long, deep scar. It must’ve been quite the gash to leave a trench like that.
The two disappear into the building. Before the door shuts completely, I break off a stick from the bush and crawl forward to wedge it into the bottom of the opening. I hold my breath for a few seconds in the silence, hoping the guys don’t miss hearing the click of the door shutting.
I listen for noises or voices, both of which I hear after a minute. It’s distant, like they’re farther into the building. I take my shot, chucking the stick and slipping through the door as quickly and quietly as I can.
I don’t know the layout of the office from this direction, but luckily, I got some idea of the front half during my lunchtime exploits earlier in the day.
I edge my way forward, sticking to the walls and peeking around the corners until I see a light flick on. They’re in one of the cleaning rooms. I can see the weird dental chair and an X-ray light box on one wall. There’s a countertop of some type to my left, so I crouch down and lean in under it to see as far as I can into the room. A sliver of Tatt Head comes into view just before Barry Sleighbaugh walks across to the light box. He flips it on and slides two X-rays onto it.
“These were Mr. Jorgenson’s before and after,” Barry explains. After a short pause, he replaces one of the X-rays with another one. “And this was yours. Perfect match. When they pull your dental records, the authorities will believe it’s your body. That you were killed. You’ll no longer be on anyone’s most wanted list. You’ll just be dead.”
I see Tatt Head nod. “You did good work, doc.”
“You m-mentioned another job?”
“Let’s see how this turns out first. You’ve still got work to do.”
“Of course.” Barry sounds casual, but he’s anything but.
“I’m gonna need all those impressions that you took.”
“I already destroyed them.”
“I hope you’re telling the truth, doc, because if I find out otherwise… It won’t be pretty for you. If word ever gets out that I’m alive, I’ll know exactly where to come to plug the leak.”
Sleighbaugh’s Adam’s apple bobs with his big gulp. He nods. “No one will find out.”
“What about the other problem?”
“I’m still working on that.”
Tatt Head steps into my field of view, stopping only when his nose is inches from the dentist’s. “I hope you’re working fast, because this has to go down in two days.”
“The accountant is no longer a problem. I haven’t found the book yet, but I will. I’m onto something.”
“Find it. Bring it to me. I want to see for myself that he didn’t tell the old lady. Then you can take care of her, too.”
“Why not just let me take care of her now?”
“If she’s the one who took it when you killed Ames, I may need her alive. If there was some kind of failsafe, we’ll need to know what it was. Just find the book. Then we’ll talk.”
I still marvel at the fact that people like this know who Miss Haddy is. And that they feel she’s a threat. I’m beginning to understand what kind of burden that book and all it contains represents. But also what kind of insurance. As long as no one can be sure where it is, and that she doesn’t have it, she’s somewhat protected. That has to be what creates the fear and keeps people in line, because it’s definitely not a drunk Scot and an ancient, long-nosed enforcer.
Tatt Head backs up, but only one step. “Remember, two days. Meet back here. You better have it. I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you don’t.”
Every ounce of color has drained from Barry Sleighbaugh’s face, and when he nods I can see that his forehead is covered in a fine sheen of perspiration.
“I’ll find it.”
“I’ll take those X-rays, t
oo. Since you didn’t destroy them.” There’s an edge to Tatt Head’s tone that makes me nervous for Barry. It makes the dentist look like he’s up to something that he supposedly destroyed dental impressions taken to alter dental records, yet kept the X-rays. They’d be just as damning.
“I only kept them to prove to you that I held up my end of the bargain.”
“Then you won’t mind giving them to me now.”
“No, of course not.” Barry slides the X-rays into a big manila envelope and hands them over.
“I paid you good money to take care of this. I expect it done right.”
“It will be.”
“Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t.”
Tatt Head taps his fingers on the X-ray envelope a couple of times as he stares at Barry, then he steps away like he’s getting ready to leave. I start backing up into the shadows around the corner, praying they don’t dillydally or turn on any other lights.
They don’t. They both head back the way we all came in, and exit. I exhale, waiting for a few minutes before I follow. I’m halfway through the door when my bladder starts screaming, reminding me that I need to go empty it before I get back on the road. One pothole and either Mrs. Stephanopoulos’ car or my pants (or both) will be ruined.
Only I wasn’t expecting someone to speak before I could get that taken care of.
“What are you doing?” comes a whispered growl from the other side of the cracked door.
And just like that, my Joan Jett outfit is soiled for life.
17
My only solace on the trip home is that if any pee makes it out from around the skintight seal of my pants, it will land in Liam’s truck rather than my landlady’s classic.
But still, I’m furious. “Why in the world would you sneak up on me like that?”
“I figured announcing my presence with a bullhorn might tip off whoever you were hiding from, but what do I know?”
Someone’s in a snit.
Someone other than me, that is.
“I hope karma is a real thing. Seriously. And I hope I’m around when she comes to visit you and pays you back for all the ways you torture me.”
“Torture you? Seems to me that I help you more than I torture you.”
“And just how were you helping me tonight?”
“If you’d been in some kind of trouble, or gotten discovered and were being held at gunpoint, you’d have been happy I found you. Trust me.”
“Well, neither of those were the case. I was doing fine on my own. Until you showed up and made me ruin the lower half of a perfectly good Halloween costume.”
I flip a synthetic dread over my shoulder in annoyance.
“Then I guess it’s lucky for both of us that I don’t do it to please you.”
I angle my body toward him. “Now that you mention it, why do you do it? If not to please me and not to annoy me, then why? What possible reason could you have?”
Liam doesn’t answer. I think he wants to, though, if the bunching of his jaw muscle and the thinning of his lips is any indication. He’s probably about to bite his tongue off right now trying to hold it in.
We fall silent for a ways, and when he does finally speak, it surprises me. “I’ve been too late before. I don’t want to be too late again.”
I feel a little stab in the area of my heart. Something in his tone tells me that this is about the loss of a great love. Maybe his fiancée? Maybe he tried to save her and was too late. I don’t know, but it gives me a new tolerance for his tendency to turn up in my life like a bad penny.
But I can’t let him know that. He wouldn’t want my sympathy. He’s too grouchy for that.
I glance over at him, at his sharp profile and the gruff set of his mouth. “If you’re trying to be nice, you sure do have a strange way of going about it.”
“I’m not trying to be anything.”
“Are you sure? Because if you were trying to be a constipated farmer who lacks social skills and growls a lot, you’d be nailing it.”
Wisely, he avoids addressing my snark. “So, what’d you find out on your big solo mission?”
I don’t address his snark either. I can be wise, too. “Actually, I’m still putting it together, but I think our friendly neighborhood dentist has changed some dental records for a criminal to help him fake his death.”
“Did you get names?”
“Jorgenson is the only name mentioned. I think that’s the body that was used to fake the death. Or will be. I’m not sure it has happened yet.”
“That ought to be easy enough to find out. Anything else?”
“It sounds like Barry Sleighbaugh killed Andrew Ames. He was trying to find the book to show to Tatt Head.”
“Who’s Tatt Head?”
“The perp.”
“The perp?” His tone is mocking.
Shocker.
“The criminal then. Is that better?” I huff. “He looked like a gangbanger. And before you make a single comment,” I rush to say, “the term gangbanger is a legitimate legal term.”
“And you’d know.”
“What is this? Pick on Lucky night?”
“What did the perp look like? The perp who’s not the dentist.”
He makes a good point. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Barry is a criminal, too.” It’s funny how I’d felt one was a good guy and the other a bad guy, when, in all actuality, they’re both bad guys. “But this man was bald and his head was covered in tattoos. And he had this really big scar that ran—”
“Down his cheek?” Liam asks.
“Yes! Do you know who he is?”
“I might. I try to keep an eye on things around here. There’s a cartel that has a hideout over in Stafford, but the feds have never been able to pinpoint its exact location. The top man on the U.S. side of the cartel’s operation is known only as Leopardo.”
“Ah. Leopard. That makes perfect sense now.”
“Why?”
“The tattoos, they look like spots. He’s covered in them. I thought he might just be trying to blend in with the trees or something, but this makes much more sense.” I get a chill. “The Leopard. That’s so creepy. And so freakin’ cool.”
“You wouldn’t think it was cool if you knew how many innocent people his cartel is responsible for inducting into the drug trafficking business.”
“Then he needs to be taken down.”
“He’s a dangerous man, Lucky. This is information you need to turn over to the feds. Let them do what needs to be done.”
“Ha! Fat chance. I’ve worked this case from ground zero. There’s no way I’m not seeing it through. All I need to do is figure out who Jorgenson is and where that stupid black book is. Then I can sew this up, all neat and tidy.”
Liam starts shaking his head.
“What?” I ask, still a little defensive.
“You really have a nose for trouble. Most women would be terrified of getting involved with people violent and sadistic enough to commit murder, much less go after a cartel that repays traitors by disemboweling them and stringing them up by their toes.”
Oh.
I wasn’t exactly aware of that.
I gulp. If I’m being honest, I feel a little green right now.
“I-I’m careful. People don’t suspect anything of a friendly blonde woman who stumbles into the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“They don’t think anything of you because you’re catnip. Anyone else would’ve been dead by now.”
“Whatever, but the main thing is, I’ll be fine. I have to bring these people to justice.”
“Even at your own risk?”
“I’m lucky,” I say with a shrug. “There’s no risk for someone like me.”
I turn to stare out the window into the black night. I don’t want Liam to see that he managed to scare me. Disemboweled? Strung up by their toes?
It’s a good thing I already peed my pants or I’d be in a very awkward position right now. Stupid weak bladder
.
When we get to my house, I walk, stiff-legged, through the door and go straight into the bathroom. I turn on the shower spray and step right into the tub to peel off damp, sticky vinyl. Peeing one’s pleather pants has to rank up there as one of my most disgusting exploits to date. And there have been many. I’m just glad I hadn’t had Chinese food. It messes with my stomach, and for that reason I’m very glad only my pitiful bladder was tested tonight. Otherwise, this could’ve been a thousand times worse.
When I emerge wrapped in a towel, it’s to absolute chaos. I feel like I’ve stepped into a petting zoo where all the animals are devil possessed.
Mr. Jingles is on my bed, barking and growling like he’s going to eat someone alive. Gumbo is snorting and running around in a tight circle in front of the door. Lucy-fur is alternating between hissing and growling as she claws at the towel on top of Gator’s cage. The hamster is running for his life in his squeaky wheel, and Squishy, the parrot who I saved from being road kill, has left his perch to fly around the room in a flutter of feathers, squawking, “Boxed up, boxed up, boxed up!”
Liam is standing in the doorway to the bedroom watching it all with a horrified look on his face.
I race across the room and snatch Lucy-fur from on top of Gator’s cage. I tuck her under one arm and wrangle Jingles in the other and head for the door. Lucy goes out the front, Jingles out the back. Within seconds, the squeaking stops and so does Squishy’s wild parroting.
I walk back into the bedroom and Liam turns his eyes slowly toward me. “You’re an insane person.”
“No. I just love my animals. They’ll be fine. They just get in a twirl sometimes and things get a little out of hand.”
“A little? This is a little? It’s like a mad jungle in here. All you need is a lion and a whip.”
“Give me time,” I retort as I start gathering a change of clothes. It’s as I’m diving into the top drawer of my dresser that I see the jewelry box on top. “Squishy!” I gasp. “You did it!”
Liam looks confused. And still a little like he just came out of a haunted house. “Did what? Who’s Squishy?”
