by Liliana Hart
Nick whistled long and low. “I’m guessing Frank is a little pissed since he’ll be behind bars the rest of his life.”
“You could say that,” I said. “The physical description Jolene gave me of a guy she’s seen around town fits the description of Frank’s brother. At this point, we need to find Pastor Charles before Emile does.”
“What makes you think Pastor Charles hasn’t gone into hiding?” Nick asked.
“He’s been checking in with his secretary. His car is parked outside the rectory. Maybe he’s hoping I would do enough to stop whoever has found him without digging too deep. I’d think you’d reach a point in your life where you’d want to stop running and constantly looking over your shoulder all the time.”
“He’s underestimated you,” Nick said. “And he’s using you to get rid of his problem, and assuming you’re not good enough to dig too deep into his past.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to dig back so far without Savage.”
“It’s good to have friends in the right places,” he said.
He parked the truck in front of the jewelry store, and I sighed. “I don’t suppose you know a preacher who can perform a last-minute ceremony.”
“It depends on if you want the marriage to be legal.”
“I’ll let you know.”
The jewelry store was right next to the ice cream shop, and I looked back and forth between them, not sure which I wanted first.
“The ice cream shop doesn’t open for another half hour. Rings first. Then ice cream.”
“I love it when you’re decisive.” I walked my fingers up his sleeve, feeling very warm in some very interesting places. I moved in close and he arched a brow, his full attention on me. “I could be persuaded to skip ice cream for a different kind of dessert.”
Nick reached up and took my sunglasses from the top of my head and put them on my eyes. “And I could be persuaded into eating two desserts. Maybe. The black eyes are throwing me off my game.”
“We should’ve brought Black Betty,” I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the jewelry store. “That’s a multipurpose van.”
Nick and I were no strangers to DeLuce’s. We’d worked a case last year that had involved stolen Russian diamonds and a dead courier, and Christian DeLuce had been right in the thick of things. Fortunately, he’d been cleared so he was free to continue to make the beautiful jewelry designs he was famous for. We’d gotten my engagement ring from Christian, though it hadn’t been for the purpose of being engaged at the time.
We walked through the door, and Nick nodded at the security guard who sat on a stool to the left. There was one other couple in the store, and they were bent over looking into one of the cases.
“Detective Dempsey,” Christian DeLuce called out as soon as he saw us.
He was a bird-like, flamboyant man with thinning strawberry-blond hair and the palest skin I’d ever seen. He was close to fifty in age, but looked much younger, and his eyes were the palest of blues.
“Oh, my,” he said, rushing up to kiss both of my cheeks, but he stopped at the sight of my face. “Good Lord, what happened to you?” I removed the sunglasses and he gasped audibly. And then he looked at Nick.
“I had a small incident while on a case,” I said.
He cut his eyes back toward Nick like he was expecting him to start throwing punches. “Well, in any case, it’s so lovely to see both of you again. I hope you’re here for pleasure and not because of dead bodies. I’ve bought no foreign gems lately.”
The people at the counter turned and looked at us, and I smiled and said, “He’s kidding.”
“We’re here for wedding bands,” Nick said.
Something in my brain clicked and I realized I recognized the woman at the counter. Her name was Heather Labo, and her husband had hired us to see if she was having an affair. The man she was with was definitely not her husband. And as if on cue, she reached down and patted his butt.
“A wedding,” Christian said, clapping his hands. “How exciting. I, of course, have the loveliest bands. When is the big day? A summer wedding, perhaps? Fall?”
“It’s Friday,” I said, following him to the counter on the opposite side of the store. DeLuce’s only dealt in high-end jewelry, and they were known for their rare and exclusive pieces. DeLuce was the jeweler to the stars and most of the world’s billionaires.
“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, somehow managing to look even more pale.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s all been put together very fast. I’ve only had a week to plan.”
Christian looked down at my waistline and raised his brows.
“And not because of that,” I said, offended. “We just don’t want to wait.”
“Hmm,” he said, clearly not believing me. “You’ll wear your veil, I suppose.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but it hurt too much so it wasn’t very effective.
“I just don’t know what I can do,” he said, waving his hands. “I keep a selection, of course, but not in all sizes. Most of our bands are custom-made and unique in some way.”
He was getting all flustered and clearly upset at the thought of selling us something plain.
“Just show us whatever you have,” Nick told him and Christian walked off to the back room, shaking his head and muttering about people expecting him to work miracles.
I took the opportunity to put my bag on the counter and dig through it until I found the file on Heather Labo.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked.
I opened the file and showed him the picture paper-clipped to the front.
He sighed. “Of course this would happen. I forgot who I was with.”
“If you help me do this now I’ll do that thing you like during second dessert.”
He arched a brow at that. “Which thing? The thing you sometimes do, or the thing you almost never do?”
“The thing I almost never do,” I said.
“I’m in. But you realize I’m supposed to be working on a case right now.”
“What would you be doing if you were working right now?” I asked, curiously.
“Banging my head against a wall trying to get warrants.”
“My thing seems like more fun,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right. The case is out of my hands right now. My grandfather is pulling some strings. I just need to be patient and let him work his magic. He’ll get to the bottom of things. Money always talks.” Nick subtly looked at the couple at the other counter. “I take it that isn’t her husband?”
“Right on the first try. She’s married to Martin Labo, and there’s about a thirty-year age difference and no prenup on the line.”
“Yikes,” Nick said. “Bet he’s regretting that one.”
“He seems to have many regrets. Like marrying her at all.”
“She reminds me of someone,” Nick said.
“She’s like a generic Real Housewives of Orange County. Big lips, big boobs, too much tan, and fabulous shoes. Looks like she’s getting a new bauble.”
“Do you know who the man is?” Nick asked.
“No, never seen him before.”
“He works in the DA’s office. Up-and-coming attorney with political aspirations. I’ve seen him in passing, but we don’t know each other on a personal level.”
“He’s wearing a wedding ring, too,” I said. “Sometimes I hate this job.”
Nick squeezed my hand and I put the file away when Christian came back with a tray of only four rings. I was having trouble focusing on them because I kept sneaking glances at Heather. A woman like that would never be satisfied with what she had. There would always be something just out of her grasp and she’d throw everything away with the hopes of getting just a little more. In the end she’d be left with no one—alone and withered—until people forgot she ever existed. It was sad, really.
“Ms. Holmes?” Christian said, clearly having tried to get my attention multiple times.
“I’m sor
ry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine throwing a wedding together in a week. I couldn’t throw a dinner party together in a week. How many people will be attending?”
I thought about the small wedding for friends and family that had somehow turned into a block party for an entire town and said, “Around three thousand. It’s open bar.”
Which reminded me that I needed to ask Rosemarie if she’d been able to secure plenty of booze. The last thing we wanted was a bunch of angry, almost drunk townspeople. They’d burn Whiskey Bayou to the ground.
Christian choked and went into a dramatic fit of coughing. “Well,” he finally said. “You’re both much braver than I could ever be, that’s for sure. Now take a look at these rings. I just happen to have two matching sets in your sizes.”
“That one,” Nick and I both said at the same time, pointing to the plain silver bands.
“I guess that’s a match,” Christian said. “Oh, I do love weddings. So romantic. I consider myself in the wedding business. So many repeat customers. You really get to know people on a personal level.”
“I bet,” I said. “We’d love to have you at ours if you’re free.”
“Oh, I wish I could,” he said sympathetically. “It sounds like it could be a real spectacle. But I’ve got to fly off to Italy for a show. You can pick the rings up on Friday morning before the wedding. My assistant will be here.” He pointed to the woman who was helping Heather Labo select a necklace and matching earrings.
I didn’t have an excuse for sticking around and waiting for Heather and her lover to finish up, so Nick and I left and he turned toward the ice cream shop.
“I’ll wait in the car if you’ll get mine,” I said. “I don’t want to miss them if they leave. I’ll only have one more case to wrap up before the end of the week if I can get this done.”
He reluctantly handed me the truck keys and said, “What do you want?”
“Triple hot fudge sundae. Extra sauce and whipped cream.”
“How you don’t weigh four hundred pounds I’ll never know.”
“Good metabolism. By the time I’m Scarlet’s age think of how small I’ll be. I’ll have practically shrunk to nothing.”
“If I ever get to be Scarlet’s age I’d prefer you just take me in the backyard and shoot me.”
“We should probably make some adjustments in our estate planning.”
We knuckle-bumped and I headed toward the truck. I turned on the heater and then got my long-range Nikon out of my bag. Sometimes a camera phone wouldn’t do it.
I was able to zoom in and get a couple of clear shots of them at the jewelry counter, but Heather and her lover never turned their faces completely toward the camera. They finally wrapped up their purchase and came out just before Nick did with our ice cream.
“Hurry,” I said once he got in the car and handed over my sundae. I looked at his single dip of chocolate and shook my head. I was glad he had more imagination in the bedroom than he did in ice cream choices.
“They’re getting into that Mercedes down there. The one that looks like it belongs to a Stormtrooper. I didn’t realize working in the DA’s office paid so well. That’s an expensive car.”
“They don’t pay that well,” Nick said. “Maybe he’s got family money.”
“I guess he’d have to if he’s got political aspirations. And that was no cheap piece of jewelry he just bought for her either. We’ve got to follow them,” I said.
“Addison…”
“Come on, you’re going to lose them.” I got my laptop out and connected it to my hotspot, and then I ran the license plate on the Mercedes. “It’s registered to a Julia Petrie.”
“Petrie,” Nick said, nodding his head. “That’s his name. I couldn’t remember. Not sure of his first name. I want to say John or James. Something with a J.”
“Jerrod,” I said. “Looks like the money comes from his wife’s side. I’m sure she’ll appreciate knowing what it’s going toward.”
“They’re heading out of the city,” Nick said, turning left onto Bay Street and then merging onto the highway and heading toward Chatham.
“You’re really good at tailing someone,” I said, appreciating how he was able to keep cars between them and us and not lose them in the process.
He spared me a glance. “Thanks,” he said dryly.
I was down to the bottom of my sundae and was all but ready to lick the bottom of the plastic container, but decided the stakes were too high at the moment. I put down the container and grabbed my Nikon, and then I zoomed in through the back window of the SUV.
“Where’d she go?” I asked, only seeing the back of Jerrod’s head behind the wheel.
“Where do you think she went?” Nick asked. “If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your ice cream you would’ve noticed she hasn’t sat upright the entire car ride.”
Jerrod was swerving between the lanes and he finally cut across three lanes of traffic, causing cars to slam on their brakes and honk their horns. He was driving like an idiot.
“Oh,” I said, finally realizing why. “I guess that’s his reward for the jewelry. They’d better pace themselves. He’s going to have a wreck.”
“They’re getting off here,” Nick said. “No pun intended.”
I snorted out a laugh as he maneuvered his way across traffic to take the exit ramp.
“Looks like a bunch of middle income neighborhoods,” I said.
Nick slowed down and waited until they’d turned onto Magnolia Street before following.
“Look,” I said, pointing. “They’re turning into that driveway.” The garage door opened and the Mercedes disappeared inside.
I typed in the address on the computer. “Looks like a rent house. It’s owned by Arthur Coolidge, LLC. I can’t tell who’s currently renting it.”
Nick blew out a breath. “Arthur Coolidge is the DA. They probably all use it for whatever trysts or illegal activities are happening in that office. They’re all dirty as hell.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
“It is what it is. Corruption at its finest. All we can do is our job and collect pieces of information. Maybe one day we’ll have enough information for a lot of people to go down. Right now, we don’t have it.”
“I’m starting to think we should move for real. This place has issues.”
“All places have issues. No one is honest anymore. Everyone is in it for themselves and whatever serves their best interest. It’s one of the reasons my grandfather wants to retire. He doesn’t feel like he can make a difference anymore.”
“Maybe you should run for his seat,” I said, and then wondered what the hell I was thinking.
But Nick didn’t say anything. He just made a U-turn at the end of the street and then parked a few houses down from where Heather and Jerrod went. Almost all the driveways were empty since it was still the middle of the workday.
“Do what you’ve got to do,” he said. “I can’t go with you.”
“It’s a shame because you could boost me over that fence. Good thing there are trees in the backyard.”
Nick closed his eyes and shook his head. “I could get fired for this.”
“You’re right,” I said. “You stay here. I’ll be right back. Lickety-split.”
“I’m not letting you climb fences and trees by yourself. I’d prefer to get married to a live person on Friday.”
“I can do this. Really,” I said. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. And you’re dressed kind of fancy.”
He just gave me a look that said I’d do best not to argue with him, and I figured he must really want me to do that thing I almost never did. “Get your camera.”
I strapped it around my neck and hopped out of the car. I watched as Nick took off his long wool coat and put it in the back cab, instead grabbing his black Northface jacket. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along toward the rent house, just a couple out for a stroll in fre
ezing temperatures.
“We’ll get in through this one,” he said. “Take a couple of pictures and then we’ll go around back.”
It was then I realized what he was doing. The house next door had a For Sale sign in the front yard. I took a couple of random shots of a traditional two-story brick house with nice big trees in the front and back. There was a realtor’s lockbox on the front door, and there were no blinds or curtains in the front windows so people could look into the house. It was staged perfectly, so I was guessing no one currently lived there.
I moseyed casually behind Nick as we walked around the side of the house, and he opened the gate to the backyard like he had every right to be there. Once we were through he closed the gate and did a quick look around. There was a big tree close to the fence that looked like it would be simple enough to climb and then drop down into the yard next door.
“Oh, man,” I said. “I hate trees.”
“I’ll go first,” Nick said. And he climbed up the tree like a monkey, took a good look at the yard next door to make sure there was nothing there, and then hopped down and out of sight.
I sighed and hung my camera around my neck, and then I started the climb up the tree. The problem with my gorgeous and practical winter boots was they weren’t all that practical for tree climbing. I hauled myself up to the limb that Nick had crossed on, completely out of breath and reminding myself to start exercising again. I’d pretty much stopped after I’d passed the physical fitness portion of my P.I. exam. Apparently you’re supposed to keep it up.
“Come on,” Nick hissed. He held out a hand for me, but it looked like an awfully long way down.
I crawled out farther onto the limb and it started to bend some, and then a little more. I was wrapped around it like a possum, and I swung upside down, holding on for dear life.
“What now?” I hissed back.
“Just let go. I’ll catch you.”
“Are you nuts? I’m upside down. I’ll break my head.”
“Just do it,” he said. “They’re probably already finished by now.”
That thought kicked me into gear and I let go suddenly, reaching for Nick as I came down. He caught me with an oomph and staggered back a few steps and then set me on my feet.
