D.B. Hayes, Detective

by Darlene Scalera; Dani Sinclair

  I didn’t say anything. I could see he was serious and maybe he was right. What did I know? I was out of my depth and more nervous than I’d ever been in my life.

  “When she called me the first time, she said she was pulling together some documents that I’d want to see. When she called me back, we arranged to meet at Victor’s Lounge downtown. Being the suspicious sort, I went over to scope out her neighborhood that afternoon. As you know, she left the house early. I decided to follow her but lost her when I had a fender bender in the parking lot after she stopped at Legacy Village. I went to Victor’s to wait for her and you know the rest.”

  “Did she give you the files?”

  “No. She claimed she had to hide them because she thought Russo was suspicious. She was sure he was going to kill her.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I was skeptical, too, but she did seem frightened and edgy that night. By the time we got to the motel she’d worked herself into quite a state. It took me a while to get her calmed down. I offered to stay, but she finally decided it would be best if I left. She turned off the lights and said she was going to take a shower and then try to sleep.”

  “Right.”

  “I know. I didn’t handle it well, but Vinnie promised to keep an eye on her room and I figured she’d be safe enough in Pennsylvania. There was no reason for Russo to look for her there.”

  “Except for me.”

  Ruefully he nodded.

  “I never spotted your tail. Elaine kept me distracted, not that that’s any excuse. The fact is there was no sign that anyone followed her to the lounge, so I wasn’t paying as close attention as I should have been on the way into Pennsylvania.”

  It was nice to know he wasn’t perfect.

  “She called again this morning. I’m supposed to meet her at her place this afternoon to pick up these files she claims she has. She says she’s passing them to me and then she’s skipping town for good before Russo does her in.”

  “And you believe her?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “No, but I do think she has some information. She definitely has no love for her husband. And it’s possible she deliberately passed off our meeting as an affair to protect both of us. Better her husband thinks we’re having an affair than she’s handing me information to convict him of murder.”

  “Better for her! Either way she gets you killed. This is not a nice person. You can’t seriously go meet with her by yourself. Call your friend Dex back. Have him go with you. In fact, take the whole police force along!”

  “If she sees a bunch of uniforms, she’ll panic and run.”

  “Then I’ll go with you. Just don’t go by yourself.”

  He smiled and my heart started thumping irregularly. I swallowed hard as he stood carefully and somewhat painfully and rubbed his knee.

  “How soon do we have to leave?”

  He limped around the desk. Annabelle jumped down and ran for the door and stood there waiting for it to magically open.

  “I appreciate it, Dee. Really. But you’re staying here. The only reason I told you was so you could tell the police in case something goes wrong.”

  “Are you insane? This whole setup is wrong. Why would you go there? Why not meet her someplace else? Someplace with lots and lots of other people around.”

  Brandon rubbed at his jaw. “She didn’t give me that option. She told me if I wanted the information she’d meet me there and hung up.”

  “How can you be so stupid? It’s definitely a setup.”

  He opened the door. Annabelle scampered out into the workroom.

  “I know. I’ll be careful. Will you drop me off so I can rent a car?”

  “You can borrow mine,” Trudy offered before I could voice another protest. “I just filled the tank this morning.”

  “Trudy!”

  “Are you sure, Ms. Hoffsteder?”

  “Of course. For a special friend of Dee’s…”

  “Trudy!”

  “I really appreciate this. I’ll take good care of your car.”

  “It’s the blue Pontiac with the Parrot Power bumper sticker on back. It’s parked on the side street about four cars down.”

  She handed him the keys and I grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t be an idiot! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

  “No, I won’t, Dee. I can handle it from here.”

  And then he kissed me. Right there in the shop in front of my aunt and Trudy and Mrs. Crispen, the minister’s wife, who had just that moment entered the shop.

  It wasn’t one of those gentle, sisterly pecks on the cheek, either. No, this was a toe-curling lip-lock that left me standing there unable to breathe long after it was over while he walked calmly out the door with Trudy’s car keys.

  “Oh, my.”

  I’m not sure who said that, but it pretty well summed up the situation.

  Annabelle stropped my legs and meowed.

  “Sugarplum, it is you! You naughty girl. Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  It took me a minute to realize that Mrs. Crispen was talking about Annabelle. She’d come in response to our Found signs. Annabelle was her missing cat Sugarplum.

  “Where on earth did you find her?”

  I looked helplessly at Aunt Lacy. “I have to go,” I told her. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

  “Just be sure you don’t,” she admonished with a worried expression.

  I nodded and rushed out the door, leaving Trudy and Aunt Lacy to explain Sugarplum.

  Brandon was already pulling away. By the time I reached Binky I’d gone from stunned to fuming mad. Who did he think he was? Brandon Kirkpatrick needed to be taken down a peg or two. How dare he kiss me like that? And borrowing Trudy’s car that way. He had no right! He wasn’t family. He wasn’t even my boyfriend. Technically we hadn’t even been on what I’d consider a real date yet.

  I’d worked myself up to a righteous anger by the time I was on the highway pushing Binky to his limits. When my cell phone rang, I answered tersely. “Hayes.”

  “Dee? It’s Mrs. Keene. I was wondering, are you and that nice young man going to be coming back again tonight? I was thinking I could put in a pot roast and maybe invite your father over.”

  “No! No dinner. I don’t think I can make it this evening.”

  “Oh.”

  She sounded so forlorn, I instantly felt guilty.

  “I could make some brownies to snack on. You like brownies, don’t you, dear?”

  “I love brownies, Mrs. Keene, but I’m on a diet,” I lied. “And I’m on another case right now. I really don’t know if I can make it over there this evening.”

  “But you must. What if he comes back? I’m here all alone.”

  “Mrs. Keene, you should call the police. We told you that last night.”

  “I couldn’t do that, Dee. If you need more money—”

  “No! No more money!” I thought fast. “All right. Look, I’ll try to be over tonight at dusk, but maybe you should call one of your friends to come and stay with you. You shouldn’t stay there alone today.”

  “Oh, I won’t. I’m working at the church rummage sale all afternoon. We’re going to set up tables and get things organized. I’ll be fine. It’s just tonight I’m worried about.”

  “Okay. I’ll try to make it.”

  “With that nice young man?”

  “No! Brandon won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad, dear. You make such a nice couple.”

  I winced.

  “You be sure and tell him hello for me.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that. I have to go now, Mrs. Keene.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll see you tonight. And I’ll make brownies.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Could the day get any better?

  It could. I got lost again. Well, heck, I’d only been to the Russos’ the one time and I didn’t even have a map with me now. By the time
I found the right street I was sweating profusely, and only partly from the hot summer sun.

  I parked behind Trudy’s car, which was parked right where Brandon had parked before. Binky still stood out in this neighborhood, but I no longer cared. And now that I was here, I wondered what the heck I thought I was going to do. I mean, I could hardly go marching up to the front door and demand to be let inside. Still, letting Brandon meet with Elaine Russo again by himself was just plain stupid, but I was hardly in a position to call the cops myself.

  The neighborhood was dead quiet, raising prickles all up and down my arms despite the fact that the midday sun was turning Binky into an unpleasant sauna. The longer I sat here, the worse my sense grew that something was badly wrong. I tried to tell myself I was being fanciful, but myself wasn’t listening.

  As I got out of the car and stood there nervously, I vowed not to do anything stupid or rash. And as I crept along the tall hedge that divided the property lines between one house and the other, I kept reminding myself that I was no television heroine. No one was going to conveniently yell Cut! and send in the stunt double if things got dangerous. And if the neighbors saw me skulking in the bushes in the middle of the day, I was going to have a fine time explaining to the police that rather than casing the Russo house, I was spying on my competition. Yeah, that would go over big with everyone involved.

  A wide sweep of lawn left me no choice but to leave the sheltering shrubs if I wanted a closer look inside the house. Since there was no fence, I figured the odds were good that large dogs with pointy teeth wouldn’t be involved, but I sprinted across the grass and circular drive with a speed that would do Aunt Lacy proud.

  A large portico with heavy white columns graced the front of the house. I skipped that area since there were no side windows with convenient views and I’d already dismissed the idea of ringing the front doorbell. Unfortunately most of the windows up front—not to mention the well-manicured but prickly-looking shrubs—were up too high for me to get a clear view inside.

  I circled around, bobbing my head up at every window I came to until I reached the shady side of the house. A cluster of large blue hydrangeas partly blocked a series of wider, lower windows.

  Movement inside brought a surge of panic sliding up my throat. I pushed my way into the thick bushes and froze, praying no one had noticed me. After several seconds of pretending to be invisible, I crept even closer to the house. Moving away was unthinkable. I’d be seen for certain then.

  Flattening myself against the house, I peered in through the window, prepared to duck immediately. The sight inside negated any thought of ducking. The room appeared to be a living room. Of course, in a house like this it was probably called by some fancier name. There was a curved arch opening across from me that opened into a hall. Elaine Russo looked as if she had just stepped inside the room from that hall. Brandon was partly in profile to me, as though he’d been crossing to meet her. Also in profile to me—close enough I could have reached out and tugged on his sleeve if it hadn’t been for the window—was Hogan Delvecchi. He’d entered the room from a side door I could see plainly. The arm I could almost touch was holding a gun and it was aimed at Brandon.

  I edged back from the window and looked around wildly. Where the heck was a rock? I had to cause a distraction before that gun went off and someone got hurt. There wasn’t so much as a pebble in the pristine landscape, and I’d left my purse in the car. I patted my pocket and came up with my keys, my identification folder and the cell phone clipped to my pants. I couldn’t throw that.

  Oh, heck. Why not? It was an older, heavier model and I’d always wanted one of the smaller, sleeker phones—maybe one that took and sent pictures.

  I threw the cell phone as hard as I could. I expected it to bounce off, maybe crack the glass, at most.

  The crash was awesome. I mean, really awesome. That window shattered in a billion tiny and not-so-tiny pieces, just like some Hollywood movie or something. Delvecchi spun. Brandon tackled him brilliantly. The two of them went down with a thud I could almost feel.

  There was no need to ring the doorbell now. I raced back around the side of the house to the front. Elaine Russo nearly knocked me over as she came flying out the front door.

  “Hey! Wait! Stop!”

  I started to go after her and hesitated. Despite a pair of three-inch-high heels and a straight skirt hiked halfway up her thighs, she was running fast enough to give my aunt Lacy some serious competition—and Brandon was alone inside with Delvecchi and a gun. The man had already tried to kill him once today, and Brandon was injured. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to prevent Delvecchi from succeeding in his goal, but I was running on adrenaline and sheer fear as I plunged inside the house.

  The hall was wide and circular and contained two built-in niches with lit statuary. I started down the opening toward the back of the house on my left because I could hear the clear sounds of the struggle in progress. But backing up, I returned to the nearest niche. The sculpture was modern, twisted and tall, fashioned in some dark metal. I picked it up, discovered it was suitably but not uncomfortably heavy, and took off again in the direction of the fight—only to arrive too late. The battle was over. Brandon stood over Delvecchi breathing hard, the clear victor. He held the man’s gun with a calm expertise I had to admire.

  “Good work,” I said letting my admiration show. I mean, Delvecchi’s built like a rock and Brandon’s just, well, trim and gorgeous and Brandon.

  He glanced at me as I came in. “Where’s Elaine?”

  “The last I saw she was running down the driveway.”

  “You let her get away?”

  “Well, gee, I thought it was a little more important to come in here and be sure you weren’t getting your butt kicked.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.”

  “If I’d had confidence, I’d still be at the shop helping to plan the Barnett wedding and you’d still be looking down the barrel of that gun you’re holding—that is, if he hadn’t already shot you. And in case you’re interested, your face is leaking some serious blood underneath that bandage.”

  Something flew from Delvecchi’s hand, striking Brandon’s left kneecap. His leg buckled. He folded before I could blink. Delvecchi scrambled up off the floor. He was through the door at his back faster than I would have thought possible for such a big man. Automatically I started to give chase.

  “Dee!”

  I spun. Brandon was painfully standing, bracing himself on the back of the couch. The room looked like you’d expect after a brawl had taken place. Furniture was pushed around or overturned, like the coffee table. Two lamps lay broken. Shards of glass littered the expensive-looking Oriental rug. In fact, the room reminded me of my apartment after Sam One got through with it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded when I stopped and ran back to his side.

  “I was going to go after him! He’s getting away!”

  “And what were you going to do—throw that sculpture at him when you caught up to him?”

  Good point. I set the sculpture down on the nearest chair and bent to retrieve the object that had hit his leg. My cell phone!

  Brandon teetered. I reached out to steady him as he tested his weight on the leg that had been injured.

  “Are you all right?”

  He shot me a dark look. “Wonderful. Don’t I look all right?”

  “No,” I snapped back, “as a matter of fact, you look—”

  “Never mind. We don’t have much time.”

  “You’re right. We need to get out of here.”

  “Help me search,” he said at the same time.

  “Search? Are you crazy? We’ve got to get out of here before the police come. Search for what? What are you doing? Where are you going? Brandon!”

  He was heading down the hall at a fast limp, the opposite way from the front door, and he was tucking Delvecchi’s gun into the waistband of his slacks as he went.

  “What do you thin
k you’re doing?”

  “We’re detectives,” he said gruffly. “We’re going to detect.”

  “Detect what? The blood trail you’re going to leave all over the house if you don’t stop your cheek from bleeding?”

  He paused, swore softly and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. Pressing it over the now-soaked bandage, he continued on his way down the hall.

  “Do you at least know where you’re going?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “Great. What’s upstairs?”

  “I’m hoping the safe.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Next time lie to me.”

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought he smothered a chuckle.

  “Brandon, the cops could show up any minute now.”

  “I don’t think so. Good. I knew there had to be a set of back stairs somewhere.”

  “But the police…”

  “Who’s going to call them? Elaine wants to get as far from Albert Russo as possible. Delvecchi’s going to have to go back to his boss and admit he was taken out by a cell phone and a man he already tried to kill once today. That was quick thinking, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. And the last thing any of them want to do is bring the police into this. Even if they did, this is the last place the police would look for us, don’t you agree? If you were us, wouldn’t you get the heck out of here?”

  I stopped and watched his butt disappear around the top of the landing. Obviously he’d taken one blow too many to the head. Yet somehow his twisted logic made sense. So, what did that say about my thinking processes?

  However, he did have a seriously nice-looking butt.

  The first room we came to was yellow. Yellow walls, yellow drapes, yellow bedspread, yellow paintings, relieved only by white furniture and white accents.

  “Yu-uck.”

  Brandon offered me a lopsided grin. “Not a fan of yellow?”