by Lynn, JB
“I know it’s unfair and can make you angry, but you shouldn’t go around shooting anybody.”
“I won’t do it again,” he promised. “Will you come to visit again?”
I smiled and patted his shoulder. “Sure.”
“And you’ll bring DeeDee?” he asked.
“It’s always the furry ones that get the attention,” God groused.
“Yup,” DeeDee agreed, smiling at the kid.
“Yes, I’ll bring DeeDee,” I promised.
Releasing his hold on the Doberman, the boy slowly got to his feet.
“Tell him I’m sorry.” Mike swooped in and landed on a branch a few feet away. “I couldn’t find anything a human child would eat.”
“I gave him my banana.”
“If we go back to your house, I could carry something over for him,” the bird offered.
Boy watched the bird carefully. “Can you tell him I’m sorry I shot him?”
“He knows.”
Mike dipped his head, nodding, and the boy smiled again.
I had to blink away tears before saying, “Mike’s offering to be a food delivery service.”
“I’m not hungry.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but the idea of getting food delivered by a bird might be a blow to one’s pride, so I didn’t push the issue. “We’ll see you soon.”
“One more person for Maggie to take care of,” God muttered.
Chapter Fifteen
When I returned to the B&B, Armani was about to embark on a spending spree. Flanked by Aunt Loretta and Marlene, they were followed by Templeton, who’d gotten roped into playing chauffeur and package carrier. He didn’t look happy.
“You know we don’t have a lot of storage space,” I warned, hoping to save Templeton some labor. “Don’t go buying the entire housewares department.”
“Wardrobe and makeup.” She tossed her shampoo-commercial-worthy hair for emphasis.
“We’re all going to get makeovers.” Loretta batted her false eyelashes for emphasis.
“How exciting,” I replied drily.
“You should join us,” Marlene suggested. “A girl’s day will be fun.”
That was definitely not my definition of fun, but I kept that to myself. “Can’t,” I answered.
“You should,” Armani urged.
“I’ve got private stuff to do,” I told her pointedly.
“Oh.” She nodded her agreement. “Yes, do that instead. But do you think you’ll be available to go property hunting in a couple of days?”
I shrugged noncommittally. I didn’t exactly relish the idea of chauffeuring her around to look at houses, but if it got her out of the B&B faster, it would be worth it.
I waved them off, got the animals resettled in the basement, took a shower, and returned to the remains of Armani’s home.
Jack Stern, wearing his leather jacket, was surveying the debris. He smiled when he saw me pull up.
He walked over to my car, so I lowered the window. “Ms. Lee.”
“So formal today?”
“Well, I was going to ask for an on-the-record statement,” he admitted.
I shook my head and pantomimed zipping my lips closed.
Bending down, he rested his forearms in the window and gave me his most charming smile. “What about the interview with Armani?”
Flustered by his flirtatiousness, I gulped. “She’ll do it.”
“Is she shaken up about this?” He jerked his chin in the direction of Armani’s decimated home.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Not too much. I’m a rolling stone. I don’t have roots. I’m not into material things,” he said with a wink.
“Except your jacket,” I teased.
He shrugged. “We all have our vices.”
“We do,” I agreed.
He leaned a little closer, pinning me with his dark gaze. “So, can I ask you an off-the-record question?”
I nodded slowly. “As long as I can still plead the fifth.”
“You’re talking to a reporter, not testifying in a court of law,” he reminded me with a smile. “Have you figured out what the Licks’ involvement in all of this is?”
I shook my head.
He stared at me, trying to determine whether I was telling him the truth.
“I swear,” I told him earnestly.
He nodded. “Me neither, and it’s frustrating as hell.”
“We should go stake them out,” I suggested.
“The Licks?” he asked, looking alarmed. “That’s a bad idea. They’re dangerous.”
“I thought you were the brilliant, fearless crime writer,” I challenged.
“Part of my brilliance is not doing things that could get myself killed.”
I shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying. Somebody’s got to figure out why Armani is in danger.”
“The cops are on it,” he assured me.
I rolled my eyes.
He chuckled. “Have dinner with me tonight?”
Surprised by the out-of-nowhere request, I blinked. I liked Jack, and Armani was right, he is a hulk of burning love, but he’s all about bringing down the bad guys of the world, and technically, I’m kind of a bad guy. I mean, I don’t think of myself that way, but in a strictly legal sense…
Amusement shimmered in his gaze at my lack of response. “I have reservations at Soliloquy.”
“Oh.” For a second, I’d thought he’d been asking me out on a date.
“Oh,” he repeated. “So, it would be a working dinner. It’s not some part of a grand plan to seduce you.”
“That’s a relief,“ I lied smoothly, hoping my disappointment wasn’t conveyed in my tone. Not that it would be a good idea to date Jack Stern, but he was an awfully good-looking and charming guy and I do have a pulse.
A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, as though he guessed what I was thinking.
Desperate to extricate from the moment, I nodded my approval. “Returning to the scene of the crime. Smart.”
“Besides,” he teased, “I’ve heard their mushroom risotto is delicious.”
I looked at him more closely. “Is that really a thing there?”
His gaze grew sharp. “That’s important?”
“It’s just that Armani’s date, the guy she was supposed to meet at Soliloquy, had told her the same thing. Where did you hear it?”
“It’s a quote from an online review. There’s a whole discussion about it in the comments section.” His brow furrowed with concentration. “When is a review not a review?”
I shrugged, wondering that, too.
“I’ve got to check something out,” he muttered. “Pick you up at seven?”
“I’ll meet you there,” I countered, not wanting to have him witness the insanity that is the B&B.
“Reservation is for 7:30.”
“I’ll be there.”
He hurried off, whipping out his phone to look something up as he strode away.
Once he was out of sight, I got out of my car and explored the perimeter of Armani’s decimated property. I didn’t know what I was looking for. I just hoped I’d recognize it when I spotted it. It occurred to me that if I’d brought along an animal or two, I’d have had some extra eyes to see any clues that might exist.
I walked slowly, methodically searching the area. The grass was torn up from the firefighters’ heavy boots and everything was muddy from the water that had been used to extinguish the blaze. I made a mental note that I couldn’t wear my sneakers back into the B&B as they became caked with muck.
I’d almost given up when something glinted in the sunlight. Crouching down, I tried to get a better look at it, but most of the surface was buried. I grabbed a nearby stick and dug it out.
Extricating it from the mud, I realized it was a coin. My stomach flipped nervously when I realized it was the same size coin I’d given my father the night before.
“What have you gotten yourself into, Armani?” I muttered, slowl
y standing up. Hoping my suspicion was wrong, I picked it up and tried to scrape the mud off of it with the end of the stick.
“Find something, Mags?”
Startled, I whirled around to find a familiar pair of green eyes watching me. I guiltily hid the coin and stick behind my back. A move similar to what I used to do as a child when Aunt Susan caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
Unlike Susan, Patrick Mulligan didn’t glare his disappointment at me. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed, the sound booming across the yard, causing me to chuckle at my own ridiculous actions.
Still smiling, he stepped closer. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I am always amazed that you’ve never gotten caught doing work for our mutual friend. It’s like you’re missing a sneaky gene or something.”
“I’m sneaky,” I said defensively.
He stared pointedly at my arms still tucked behind my back. “I think we have different definitions of sneaky.”
“Fine.” I relaxed my pose, dropped the stick, and held up the coin. “I found this.”
“A half dollar?”
I shook my head slowly. “I think it’s gold.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “One of her post-lottery-win purchases?”
“Maybe.” I didn’t really think it was, but I didn’t want to pull Patrick into all the drama concerning my father. “She did buy a lot of weird stuff after she won.” I looked at the debris field. “I hope she insured it.”
“What were you talking to Jack Stern about?”
Swinging my gaze to meet his, I wondered how long he’d been watching me. “He wants to interview Armani.”
“Did he say why?”
I shook my head. “And he wants to take me to dinner.”
Something flickered in Patrick’s gaze, but his expression remained the same.
“To Soliloquy,” I felt obligated to admit.
Patrick frowned slightly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“You don’t think that’s looking for trouble?”
“I think trouble finds me whether or not I go looking for it.” I pinched the coin, a reminder of trouble that had come my way.
“What time?” Patrick asked.
“What?”
“What time are you and Jack going?”
“7:30? I think that’s what he said.”
He winced.
“What?” I asked suspiciously.
“I think our mutual friend might be there then.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out how he could possibly know the schedule of Delveccio, the mob boss. “Are you his social secretary now?”
“Can you go another night?” There was an urgency in his tone.
“I could go another night,” I said slowly, “but I don’t think that I can convince Jack not to go tonight.”
Patrick rubbed the back of his neck as though trying to rid himself of tension. He didn’t say anything for a long time, but I could practically hear the wheels turning in his brain.
“Jack might get suspicious if I don’t go and then he sees Delveccio,” I said finally.
The redhead nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“I might be able to steer him away from Delveccio,” I offered.
“Yeah. That would be good.”
“It’ll be okay,” I promised him. “What could go wrong?”
Disbelief glittered in Patrick’s gaze. “You’re kidding, right?”
--#--
Detective Brian Griswald was waiting for me when I got back to the B&B. He was sitting in the dining room with Aunt Leslie, who was showing him an old picture album. If the glazed over look in his eyes was any indication, I was pretty sure he’d been regaled by her boring blow-by-blow of old photos for a prolonged period of time.
“Look who’s here,” Leslie said when I stuck my head into the room. “Lawrence’s nephew, Brian.”
“I can see that.” I strolled over to the table to look over their shoulders. “Is there a reason you’re showing him my performance in the middle school production of Mary Poppins?”
“Chimney Sweep number two, that’s you.” Leslie jabbed her finger at my ash-covered face. “Don’t you look adorable?”
I winced at the picture. “Aunt Loretta was a little heavy-handed with the smoky shimmer eye shadow.” I looked more like the Tin Man than one of Bert’s cohorts.
“She was adorable,” Leslie assured Brian.
“He has a girlfriend…a fiancée,” I told her. “You don’t need to sell him on me.”
Leslie sighed dramatically. “But she isn’t the most dependable,” said the woman who had been dancing naked in the front yard, summoning something. “There’s still no horseradish in the fridge.”
I smacked my forehead with my palm. “I forgot.”
“Obviously,” Leslie pouted.
“It’s been a little busy,” I said defensively. Then, realizing I was about to get into an argument, I changed the subject. “Why are you here, Brian?”
“I needed to talk to Armani.” He stood up as he spoke and I had to admire the way he was subtly extricating himself from Aunt Leslie’s hold without making it obvious. I made a mental note to try it myself sometime soon.
“But I could talk to you, too.” There was a slight edge of desperation in his tone, as though he knew his escape depended on my cooperation.
“I have to walk the dog,” I told him. “Meet me outside in three minutes?”
He nodded his agreement, gratitude shining in his eyes.
“You’ll get horseradish soon?” Leslie called after me as I hurried out of the room.
I didn’t answer her. Instead, I practically ran down the steps of the basement, vaulting over DeeDee, who was sprawled out at the base like a giant oil slick, just waiting to trip me up. I quickly filled the animals in on my Soliloquy plans with Jack, Patrick’s warning, and the plan to walk the dog with the detective.
DeeDee was excited and started panting, “Gotta. Gotta!”
God was concerned. “Do you think it’s wise to be communicating with law enforcement?”
“Do you think he might get suspicious of her if she avoided him?” Piss countered.
“I shall accompany you to make sure you don’t say anything stupid,” God declared imperiously. “Or worse, incriminating.”
“Be smart. Be smart. Be smart,” Benny urged from his box.
“I have a superior intellect, you repetitious rodent,” the lizard informed him haughtily. “I’m always smart.”
“Don’t keep the detective waiting,” Piss warned. “You don’t want him poking around.”
Lifting God out of his terrarium and depositing him on my shoulder, I reminded him, “Please, please keep your comments to a minimum.”
“I shall speak only when necessary,” he promised. “But I will listen to every word that is exchanged.”
“I feel confident,” Piss said drily, arching her back.
“Too me. Too me.” DeeDee practically danced circles around me.
I snapped the leash onto her collar and allowed her to yank me toward the storm cellar doors. Pushing them open, I squinted against the sun as she led me outside.
God dove into my bra as Brian said, “Hey.”
Shielding my eyes with my hand, I spotted him a few feet away. “Hey. Did you really want to talk to me or was that just a convenient excuse to get away?”
He grimaced. “A bit of both.”
DeeDee led us away from the B&B, sniffing every clump of grass she encountered.
“Have you spoken to Susan?” Brian asked, his tone deliberately nonchalant.
“No, but I’m guessing Leslie already told you that.”
He nodded. “I’m getting concerned.”
“Me, too,” I admitted. It was more than out-of-character for Aunt Susan to be incommunicado for so long—it was getting downright worrisome.
We walked along in silence for a minute before I blurted out, “So, ther
e are two possible scenarios.”
“Just two?” God mocked.
Brian looked over at my squeaking chest.
“One,” I continued, ignoring them both. “They got married and are honeymooning and have cut off all contact with the world.”
“You think they got married?” Brian sounded surprised.
“Well,” I explained slowly, “Armani did predict ‘elopers’ recently.”
"What?"
“Armani’s psychically predictive text Scrabble tiles spelled out elopers,” I explained to him in a matter-of-fact tone, even though I knew full well it sounded crazy.
He raised an eyebrow. “You believe in her psychic claims?”
I nodded, knowing full well it was one of her psychic claims that had brought him together with his fiancée. “You don’t?”
“I’m still skeptical,” Brian said forcefully.
“Of course.” I didn’t blame him. I’d been a skeptic for a long time, too…even after I started conversing with animals, which sounds just as crazy as believing in someone’s psychic Scrabble powers. “You’ve seen for yourself how Armani’s predictions work, though, so there’s a chance…”
I trailed off and let him consider the possibility. We walked along in silence for a long moment. Then, we came to a stop as DeeDee spotted a squirrel nearby. She tensed, ready to spring after it. I tightened my grip on her leash.
Finally, Brian asked, “You said there were two?”
I nodded and took a deep breath. “I’m hoping that I’m right about the first one and wrong about this.”
“Go on,” Brian urged.
“Go?” DeeDee’s ears perked up.
“No,” I told her sharply.
Tensing, Brian’s eyes widened, confused. “No?”
“Leave the squirrel alone,” I told the dog.
Disappointed, she returned to sniffing the ground.
Brian relaxed. “What’s the second scenario?”
“Aunt Susan could be sick.”
Brows furrowing, he asked, “Is she?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Katie said she’d been talking to a doctor a lot.”
“Hang on,” the cop said. “Which one is Katie?”
“My niece.”
He nodded slowly. “So, you’re basing your scenarios on a woman who claims to be psychic and a child.”
