Checkered Thief (A Laurel London Mystery Book 3)

by Kappes, Tonya

  Trent did what she said and I picked the rope up off the floor. I circled his hands loosely with the rope as she continued to talk. Quickly I tried recalling the sequence of events that had happened over the past forty-eight hours. How could I have been so stupid? Not only had I put myself in danger, I put everyone I loved in danger.

  “The plan was to get in here and steal the money like always, but the whole twin thing popped into my head after you went nuts at the bowling alley and I knew you weren’t going to just let me do my thing here. So I concocted the whole my twin got kidnapped and I was being blackmailed story. I knew I had to get you arrested when you wanted to call in the feds. So I told you the kidnappers upped the ante and wanted the parking lot tapes, which there obviously were none. I just so happened to let them know you were in there messing with the video. I took the money the night before and planted it in there. The Brinks truck wouldn’t be here until the next morning, so I knew they would get you before the money was unaccounted for.”

  I did a couple of knots in the rope and tugged on it, letting Trent know it was very loose and he could easily slip out.

  “Bandana,” she ordered.

  Trent’s eyes caught mine. The intensity in his stare let me know we were going to be okay, but I wasn’t feeling it.

  “This here.” She patted the bag with her gun. “It’s a small bonus. Who knew you were rich. Derek surely doesn’t.”

  Damn blood money. I couldn’t believe it. This money has been nothing but a curse.

  “It was great when he arrested you and I didn’t dare tell him anything—just that I couldn’t believe you would try to steal from a casino.” She smiled. “Poor pitiful me. But then you had to escape,” she growled and now her gun was pointing right at me.

  I fought hard against the tears that I refused to let fall.

  “Then you told me about how rich you are and just as I thought.” She laughed a scornful laugh.

  “What?” My brows drew together in an agonizing expression.

  “Easy as taking candy from a baby.” She patted the purse again.

  “Laurel? Are you in here?” Gia pushed the door open.

  “And what are you doing here?” Bethany turned her gun on Gia. “Who cares. Get over there!” She waved the gun for Gia to move.

  Gia threw her hands in the air and scooted past Bethany. “Don’t shoot me.”

  “I’m going to. . .achoo!” Bethany’s head flung forward in a sneeze. When Gia walked past Bethany, she must’ve had the pollen all over her, sending Bethany into a fit of allergy sneezes giving me the opportunity to swing my leg up in the air and kick the gun out of her hand, sending it sailing across the room.

  Both of us scrambled in that direction each desperately trying to get to the gun before the other.

  “Get it!” Gia screamed and hid underneath the table. “Hurry, Laurel!”

  “I’m trying!” I jerked Bethany’s pant leg, trying to drag her away from getting to the gun quicker than I could.

  “Stop right there! Both of you!” The loud voice echoed in my head, stopping me in my tracks. And Bethany too. “Hands in the air and slowly turn around.”

  Bethany and I looked at each other, waiting for the other to do it.

  “Now,” the voice demanded.

  Slowly we both twirled on the balls of our shoes and faced down the barrel of Jax Jackson’s gun.

  “Damn.” The look of disgust curled his nose and lips. “I knew when I picked up Trixie’s hat off the floor that those were your shoes under those polyester pants. But I told myself that there was no way you would wear polyester pants, much less a shirt like that.” With one hand, he grabbed the cuffs off of the belt of his security uniform and slapped them on Bethany’s wrists, still keeping the gun focused on her.

  While he ranted on about me, Gia and I untied Trent and replaced him with Bethany.

  “When Trent told me you were somehow involved in all of this, I started putting two and two together.” He put his gun back in his holster and took me by the arm. “I’m sure there is a good explanation for all this, right?”

  “Yes.” I glanced over at Bethany.

  Her head was hanging and Trent was reading her the Miranda rights. There were so many thoughts swirling around in my head, I wasn’t sure what I needed to take care of first.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You are doing a good thing here, Laurel.” Jax stepped up onto the front porch of the old orphanage.

  He was casually dressed in his khaki’s, fancy collared shirt, and leather shoes that I recalled him wearing the day he had jumped into my Old Girl thinking it was a taxi, though then he was completely undercover with the feds. His brown eyes didn’t have the hate-filled look he had a few weeks ago when he broke up with me after my little crazy spell at Lucky Strikes. In fact, this was the first time I had seen him since they hauled Bethany Hawthorne off to federal prison.

  “I lived my entire life without money and always tried to help the orphans I lived with.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. “And I just didn’t like the idea of blood money being wasted, so why not open a real orphanage. There are so many kids out there that need a home.”

  After the whole casino heist, I had to come clean about my inheritance. Everyone in town was so happy for me. I made a sizeable donation to the Friendship Baptist Church, creating a truce between me and Pastor Brown and his wife Rita. And I decided to use the rest to reopen the orphanage.

  “Besides, this place is too big for me and Trixie.” I leaned toward him and whispered, “Plus it keeps her busy and away from that damn casino.”

  I looked over his shoulder at all the cars filing in for the big ribbon-cutting ceremony, anxiously awaiting the bus of five orphans that I had signed up already. The excitement was almost too much for me to bear.

  “Thank you so much for coming.” I reached out and touched the side of his arm. “It means a lot to me.”

  “Well,” he sucked in a deep breath. “After this, I’m heading out.”

  “What?” The sound of his voice made it so final. “Where?”

  “I’m going back to New York City. I’m taking my old job back.” He looked around as if it pained him to look at me. “There really isn’t much private detective work around here and . . .” he paused, “I know you aren’t in love with me.”

  “But.” I started to protest before he lifted his finger to my lips.

  “Shhh.” His lips let out a steady stream of air. “It was fun while it lasted. You are a good person, Laurel London.” He ran his hand down my cheek and wiped the tear that had fallen from my eyes. “You are going to be doing a lot of good work here.”

  He didn’t bother letting me say anything. He simply turned around, walked down the steps of the porch and got back in his car.

  The old superstitious saying is that you’re not supposed to watch someone drive off in their car or they will be gone forever. Jax Jackson was gone forever. I could feel it. I watched his car drive to the end of the driveway. My heart stopped when he pulled to the side, hoping he might change his mind.

  A bus pulled in, blocking my view of Jax. A few kids hung out the window with big smiles on their faces. My heart leapt at the joy I could see in their eyes when they saw the house and the crowd that was gathered to greet them.

  Trixie ran down the driveway with her tinfoil hat molded to her head, waving her arms above her head, yelling, “They’re here! They’re here!”

  The bus honked its horn all the way up.

  I rolled up on my tiptoes to see if Jax’s car was still there, but it was gone. He had to have taken the opportunity of the bus hiding him to make his getaway. Otherwise, I’m not so sure he would have left me there on the front porch crying.

  “Look at you getting all mushy seeing the orphans coming. Who knew you had that soft heart.” The screen door slammed behind me as Derek walked up.

  I turned around. Our eyes caught. My heart did a flip. After the whole Brittany/Bethany thing, I was happier than
I realized that Derek and Bethany hadn’t slept together. It made me realize my feelings about him were more than just friends. There was no way I was going to tell him.

  Over the past couple of weeks, I had been busy with all the paperwork to get my new orphanage business running and dissolve the Drive Me app. I still took Sharon Fasa to her appointments and will still continue to do so. But my true purpose was to be an orphan and own an orphanage.

  “I…I…” Derek stuttered. “I’m so proud of you.” His voice was calm, his gaze steady.

  “Really?” I asked. His approval was really the only thing I had ever sought growing up.

  There was no need for words. Derek’s warm lips on mine were all he needed to say. My body melted into his has he took me deeper into his arms. It finally felt like I was home. A real home, in his arms, with my purpose in life.

  “It’s about damn time!” Trixie called from behind the group of kids standing in front of her. She held a small baby in her arms. Instantly the baby reminded me of. . .me.

  The entire community was there behind her. To see all the faces that had once criticized me and judged me now there to support me was heart-warming. Everyone smiled and clapped.

  Derek trotted down the steps, rubbing each child on the head before taking the baby out of Trixie’s arms.

  “It’s a boy!” Derek shouted, pride written on his face. He looked at me. “What should we name him?”

  “We?” I asked, laughing.

  “Laurel London!” Derek shouted and bent down on one knee, baby nestled in his arms. “Will you marry us?”

  A knot formed in my throat and tears filled my eyes. All I could do was nod and look at my entire community standing before me.

  Derek rushed up the stairs, cradling the baby. We clung to each other like we had so many years ago under the night sky on the riverbank.

  “I love you, Laurel London.” Derek kissed my tear-stained cheeks, and handed me the baby. “You are going to make a wonderful wife and mother.”

  “I love you, too.” I kissed the top of the baby’s head before I kissed the lips of my future husband, knowing deep in my gut I had finally found the home I had been searching for all my life.

  My days of being a petty criminal were over. My days of trying to be a sleuth were over. I would leave the detective and police work up to Derek. I was content to be his wife and mother to all the children I could fit into this house.

  “Why wait?” Derek asked. “Pastor Brown is right there.”

  “I’d be honored!” Pastor Brown cheered from the crowd.

  On that sunny day on the orphanage grounds, Trixie and I cut the ribbon to the orphanage and I became Mrs. Derek Smitherman.

  Enjoy the first chapter of CHECKERED CRIME, the first novel in the Laurel London Mystery Series.

  Chapter One

  “Thank God you’re here,” I hollered to Derek Smitherman who had his head stuck under the hood of a car, his usual position. I slammed the door of the old VW van. “Thanks for lunch.” I waved off the guy I had hitched a ride with after our lunch date.

  I adjusted my black wrap dress so it was wrapped in all the right places.

  Contorting his body, Derek stood up and turned around. He took the dirty oily rag from the back pocket of his blue mechanic overalls and wiped his hands, leaving some smudging on them. He pushed the large-frame black glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

  It was a shame he covered up that body; I bet every single woman in Walnut Grove, Kentucky would take their car to him for all of their repairs if he wore a white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of snug Wranglers. Most of the time women got lost in his steel-blue eyes, so bright against his black hair. But if they only knew what was underneath all the clothes…

  For years Derek and I used to go skinny dipping in the river until one day our stares lingered a little too long, and we realized our bodies where no longer those of little kids. Derek had grown into a hot dude right before my eyes and I never saw it coming. Too bad I could only think of him like a brother.

  “I need your help.” I stuck my hands out to the side like I was on a balance beam, trying to keep my five-foot-eight frame upright on my high-heels because the loose pieces of the beat-up concrete walkway made me a little wobbly. I grabbed the lanyard from around my neck with my Porty Morty’s ID stuck in the clear pouch and threw it in my bag. “I’m not going to need that any time soon. What about that help?”

  I hopped onto a piece of concrete slab that was mostly intact, once again having to readjust the wrap dress.

  “I learned my lesson a long time ago that before I agree to help you with anything that I better have all the details of what it is you want.” His brows frowned, his eyes narrowed. “Every single detail.”

  “Simple. I need a car.” I took the toe of my heel and batted around a piece of loose concrete to avoid all of the questions that were going to follow.

  “No way, no how am I going to help you out.” Derek looked over my shoulder at the beat-up van. His five o’clock shadow was a little thicker than normal.

  The gears grinded before the driver of the VW gave us the peace sign and took off.

  I took a couple steps forward and rubbed the back of my hand down his chin.

  “No wonder you can’t get any ladies. Clean yourself up.” I messed up his hair.

  He jerked his head back. He quirked his eyebrow questioningly.

  “Who was that?” He asked in a “good ole boy” voice and jerked his head to the right, getting a better view of the VW.

  “Gary. . .um. . .Barry I think.” I shrugged off his interrogation. “Lunch Date Dot Com.”

  “Good grief.” Derek shook his head. “I’d rather stay single.”

  Lunch Date Dot Com was a dating website where you met for lunch on your lunch breaks. I didn’t even bother to read the guy’s profile before I accepted his lunch offer because I was starving and I needed a ride to come out here and see Derek.

  “So what about that car?” I wiggled my brows that were in desperate need of a wax.

  Given my current money status, I was going to have to settle for Trixie’s hot pink jeweled tweezers she picked up on her weekly run to the Dollar Store.

  “I don’t think so.” Derek resumed his position under the hood of the elevated car. “Besides, where is your company car from Porty Morty’s?”

  “I got fired,” I murmured. I adjusted the tight black Diane Von Furstenberg dress I had picked up from the local Salvation Army. Wrapping a piece of my shoulder-length honey-colored hair behind my ear, I batted my grey eyes and used fifteen hundred dollars cash to fan my face. “I’ve got fifteen hundred dollars. You can use it to fix that little concrete problem you have.” I pointed to the chipped-up material.

  “Laurel London, did you say fired?” Derek swiftly turned back around and waved a wrench in the air until he saw the cash. There was a little twinkle in his eye. I knew Derek like the back of my hand. He loved cash just as much as I did.

  I waved the dough under his nose. “That is why I need a new car.”

  When I heard a faint sniff as the cash passed his left nostril, I knew he was on the line. It was time for me to hook him and reel him in.

  “Trixie will skin my hide if I take that stolen cash.”

  “Stolen?” Okay. I was officially offended. “You think I stole this money? I want you to know,” I jerked my shoulders back and cocked my chin in the air. His eyes were on the cash. “This is guilt money from Morty. That no good sonofa…,” I muttered a few curse words under my breath.

  “See, why do you have to go around talking like that?” Derek asked. His face contorted. “That along with your…um…sticky fingers don’t make me want to do any sort of favors for you anymore.”

  “Sticky fingers? Geesh.” I threw my hands in the air. “When is this town ever going to get over that?”

  “Over it?” He laughed. “Over it?”

  “Yeah, heard you the first time.” I spoke softly and narrowed my eyes.

&nbs
p; “You have pick-pocketed every single person in the town, not to mention how you hacked into the Wilsons’ accounts after they took you in.”

  “Oh that. Phish!” I gestured. “That was seven years ago. I was fifteen years old. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t right there with me.” I tapped my temple and then brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and again fanned myself with the money. Clearly the sticky, humid weather wasn’t doing me any favors. “I clearly remember you threading the fishing line on the Quantum Rod and Reel you had on your Christmas list. I played Santa, that’s all.” I shrugged, recalling all the crappy Christmas presents the orphanage gave all of us year after year and when I had decided to use the Wilsons’ credit card to buy all the orphans real Christmas presents.

  “It was your chance to get out of the big house and you blew it.” Derek shook his head. He put the wrench in his back pocket and crossed his arms in front of him. “Anyone would have given their arm to get out of there and have a real Christmas for once.”

  True, true. I didn’t have a leg to stand on with his argument.

  I admired Derek. He got out of the orphanage with a great job and was working on his dream to become a police officer. He was almost finished with night classes at the University of Louisville.

  “You didn’t tell me the truth about those Christmas presents or I would’ve never shown up to meet you.” Derek’s lip turned up in an Elvis kind of way exposing a small portion of his pearly white teeth and deepening the dimple on his cheek. A distant twinkle flickered in his blue eyes. “You sure were believable when you told me they bought all the presents for the orphanage. Genius in fact.” He pointed his finger at me. “I credit you for me wanting to be a cop. Since I know how you work, I’m going to be able to figure out how criminal minds work.”