“It’s a possibility. That may explain why they’ve only scared the hell out of him instead of actually killing him. They want their money back. Can’t get money from a dead man.”
Frowning, she swirled the dark, fragrant coffee in her cup for a few moments while her brain raced from possibility to possibility. All these ideas in her head, and what she really needed were a few more facts. She looked up at Tootsie.
“You’ve already gotten someone to cover my shift today, right?”
“Yes, and you know I can’t change that. MPD would protest.”
She smiled. “I have an idea.”
IT WAS DARK when Morgan arrived at Tootsie’s house to pick her up. He looked tired but glad to see her still in one piece. He took the beer Tootsie offered him, then said, “I’m almost scared to ask, but what did you girls do today?”
Tootsie said, “You’ll be very happy to know that Harley never left the office. She stayed right there working on the computer.”
Morgan paused. “On your computer?”
“Good lord, no! I haven’t lost my mind yet. I loaned her an old laptop that’s guaranteed to outlast third graders.”
“Is it still working?”
Tootsie nodded. “Amazingly enough, yes. She was very good all day. Just like an average third grader.”
Annoyed, Harley said, “I’m right here, you know. I can hear what you’re saying.”
“So you can,” remarked Tootsie. “Are you riding with me again tomorrow?”
Harley looked at Mike. “I want to check on my cat. I don’t like leaving him there alone. And I want my car back from my brother before he runs it up a telephone pole. He sometimes forgets that he’s in the driver’s seat.”
“I can see where that would be an inconvenience,” said Morgan. “No problem. I can get you there.”
“And I need a new phone. I’ve been without one for two days.”
“This protective custody thing can be bothersome. I thought it’d be more fun.”
“Life is full of irritations, isn’t it?” Harley agreed. “Or you can just let me run my errands on my own.”
“No, I promised I would keep you safe. That means I have to stay with you. Or at least leave you with someone responsible.”
“Being a third grader has its compensations,” said Harley. “Good night, Tootsie. I will see you bright and early in the morning.”
Tootsie slumped against the kitchen counter. “I live for the moment.”
A sudden shriek from another room startled Morgan into almost dropping his beer. Some of it sloshed onto the floor. “What the hell . . .?”
“Birds,” said Harley. “I told you about them. Remember?”
“The ones that listen to old movies? Yeah. I remember. I just didn’t think they’d sound like Nightmare on Elm Street.”
“They’re very talented,” Tootsie said. “If you can stand listening to reruns from the nineties and the theme to Gilligan’s Island, that is. Other than that they have a knack for running off guests and random burglars.”
“It wasn’t random,” Harley pointed out. “I’m sure he was after you for the reason we discussed earlier.”
Tootsie looked a little pale.
“What was the reason you discussed earlier?” Mike wanted to know when they were in his car and headed down a dark street barely illuminated by streetlights.
“Oh, nothing. Well, a little something. I have a theory.” She ignored his muttered expletive and went on. “It’s very simple. I was dressed as Tootsie the night of the party, and Harvey Fine was angry at both of us because Tootsie had printed some incriminating information for me. It’s amazing what you can find with the Internet. Tootsie has all kind of software programs that can get into databases you wouldn’t believe.”
“Do go on,” Morgan said when she paused. “I’m listening.”
“So while I don’t think it was Fine that attacked me when I went to Tootsie’s to pick up Eric’s guitar, I think it was one of his associates. He was there waiting, and since both my car and Tootsie’s car were there, he probably thought he’d get both of us at one time.”
“Really. So what would he do with both of you if he had you?”
Harley looked at him. “What do you think? He’d kill us.”
“So Harvey Fine was at the party with both of you, and from what I’ve been told, he had lots of opportunities to kill anyone he wanted. Why didn’t that happen?”
“Well, you’ll note that Felicia is dead. Maybe it was too big a risk to kill Tootsie with all those people around. And he did try to kill me later, of course.”
“So if the guy who attacked you at Tootsie’s is his associate, Fine couldn’t call him and warn him you weren’t there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he still wanted to get the information that Tootsie printed off for me.”
“If it’s on the Internet, stealing it would inconvenience you and Tootsie for about five minutes, if that.”
“Dammit. I like my theory. Why are you messing it up?”
“I’m just like that.” Morgan looked over at her and grinned. “The trouble with theories is that they aren’t flexible. You have to be flexible. You can’t twist the facts to fit your theory; you have to adjust your theory to fit the facts. Get it?”
“I get it. That means I shouldn’t tell you what else I found out on the Internet. I don’t want to mess up your facts with my theory.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking, but what else did you find out?” When she didn’t answer, he sighed and added, “Please share your theory.”
“Jordan Cleveland has a half million dollar life insurance policy on his late wife. If she dies from other than natural causes, it doubles.”
Silence greeted that information. She peered at him in the dim lights of the pimp-mobile’s dashboard. “Don’t you find that interesting? Jordan has his wife insured for a lot of money. And he owes a lot of money. There has to be a connection.”
After a moment Morgan said, “There’s such a thing as too much information.”
“Are we back to that? I thought you’d be interested in what I found. I guess not.”
“I’m interested. I’m just worried that you’re going to do something dumb with that information.”
“Like what? Ask Jordan if he insured his wife, then killed her to pay off his debt to the mob, or whoever those guys are?”
“Mob? Are you kidding me?”
Irritated now, Harley glared at him. “I’m not up to date on all the latest terms for criminals. Sorry. I could go back to calling them perps or skells, but you say that’s too Law and Order.”
Her eyes narrowed when he started laughing. She hated it when he laughed at her. For the next hour while they shopped for her new phone, locked up her car and took the key away from her brother, then drove to her apartment to check on the cat, Harley kept a distant, frosty silence. She answered only direct questions. If it bothered Morgan to be given the silent treatment, she couldn’t tell. That irritated her even more.
Sarah Simon scurried across the parking lot as they drove in the back parking area, and Harley watched her rush through the door into the lobby. Vapor lights flickered. The wind had picked up, and bushes and trees made eerie patterns against the brick building. It only occurred to her that she didn’t have her keys when she stood in front of her door.
Morgan leaned up against the wall next to the door and didn’t say anything. Damn him. He was going to make her ask.
“My keys are with my bike, and my bike is impounded,” she said after a moment. “I hope you have a door key.”
“Why, I just happen to have one. Conveniently enough.”
“Yes. Conveniently enough. Would you mind using it?”
“My pleasure.” He fished his keys out of a pocket and opened her door, making a big show out of holding it for her. She felt like smacking him.
Sam greeted her immediately. He wound his sleek body around her ankles as she tried to walk, vocalizing his displeas
ure at her absence. When she got out the can opener and a can of cat food his vocals got even louder. Morgan was doing a quick check of the apartment, testing the door to the balcony, then all her windows before he came back to the living room.
“Is that all it takes to shut him up?” he asked when she put the plate of food on the floor and Sam immediately attacked it.
“Pretty much. So, anyone come in while I was gone?”
“Not that I can tell.”
“Then it’s safe here, right?”
Morgan looked at her. “I don’t like what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Okay,” she said, glaring at him, “what am I thinking right now?”
“Tsk, tsk. Such language from a lady.”
“I can’t believe you just said ‘tsk, tsk.’”
“And I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to want to stay here. It seems we have a stand-off.”
She wasn’t about to admit it sounded dumb. So she said, “You can still take me to and from work if you want. Unless you don’t want to bother.”
He sighed. “It’s not a matter of wanting to do it, it’s more like wanting to keep you alive. Two really close calls don’t give me a feeling of assurance about your chances if you’re alone.”
“True that.” She hated to give in, but she wasn’t stupid enough to want to risk her life anymore, either. So she went for the middle ground of compromise. “I don’t want to leave Sam alone again. How about we stay here tonight?”
“I didn’t bring my jammies. And I’m not sure your apartment is a safe zone.”
“Even more reason not to leave Sam. Last time someone broke in he got out and was gone for a while. Next time he might not be so lucky.”
“Fine. We’ll stay here. I know better than to argue when you’re being stubborn.”
She wanted to say something smart, but her brain was overloaded at the moment. So she settled for, “I’m not being stubborn. Just concerned about animal welfare.”
Morgan did the equivalent of a cop’s eye roll, and she decided to ignore him. For the next few minutes she cleaned out the refrigerator of cardboard boxes of take-out. It was nearly empty when she finished. All that was left were two beers, a stick of butter, and a half-can of cat food covered with a plastic lid.
“I need food,” she said. “All Tootsie fed me were leftovers from the Halloween party. Rice and mushroom pilaf. Artichoke and spinach dip. California roll. Not exactly filling.”
“Is that a hint for me to order take-out?”
The refrigerator light blinked, and she reached in to tighten it. She looked at him over her shoulder. “I could do that. Pizza or Chinese. But I want Taco Bell.”
Morgan gave her a pained look. “Again? Don’t you ever eat anything good for you?”
“It’s good for me. It has dairy, veggies, legumes—that’s beans in case you didn’t know. All stuff that’s good for you.”
“I take it you’re asking me to make a fast food run.”
“You’re so nice to offer. Thank you. I’d offer to pay, but my money is in the same place as my keys. They’ll give it back when they’re through with my bike though, right?”
“There’s a good chance of that. I’ll be back. Don’t open this door to anyone. Even me. I have a key.”
“Gotcha.”
Harley tidied up the living room, plumped a few pillows, brushed cat hair off a cushion or two, then ran a dust mop over the wood floors. Just one cat shed so much hair that she wondered how he had any left.
“You should be bald,” she said to him when Sam sat on the arm of a chair licking himself. “How can one cat have so much fur?”
Sam paused, looked up at her over his unsheathed claws, apparently decided she was boring, and went back to cleaning himself. She sighed and finished dust mopping.
When she put the dust mop back into the narrow broom closet, something caught her eye. It was a reflection in the dust pan, a movement so quick she almost missed it.
She whirled around, but nothing was there. Only the curtain over the French door leading to the balcony swaying a little. For some reason the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Sam was nowhere in sight so hadn’t caused the sheer curtain to move.
Morgan had checked that door. She saw him. Her heart thumped against her rib cage. She’d only been out of the room a few minutes to run the dust mop over the floor in the guest room and her bedroom. No one could have gotten into the apartment in such a short time.
A sudden rap on her door scared her, and she jumped. Dammit! Morgan had her all nervous over nothing. The seals on these apartments were old, and no doubt wind through the cracks made the curtain move. She went to the door and put her eye to the peephole. Sarah Simon stared back at her.
“Are you alone?” Harley asked through the closed door.
Sarah held up a hand full of envelopes. “Yes. I brought up your mail. The mail carrier said he can’t fit any more into your box. Don’t you ever check it?”
Harley opened the door. Sarah held out her mail, then said, “What happened to your eye? It’s black.”
“A run-in with a skeleton. I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that. It’s much better than it was. I can see a little out of it now. Do you want to come in?”
Sarah shook her head. She looked like a bird poised for flight. “No. My program is coming on. Next time you see the bug man, though, tell him he has to come in the daytime if he wants to spray my apartment when he does yours.”
“The bug man? He just came last week. When was he here?”
“Earlier tonight. He wasn’t the same one though. He wasn’t wearing a paper suit this time.”
“Are you sure it was the bug man?”
Sarah looked annoyed. “Yes, I’m sure. I heard him tell someone on his cell phone that he’d debugged your apartment.”
“Ah. Can you describe him for me?”
Sarah gave her another odd look but said, “He was tall, I guess. Wearing a suit.”
“That’s it? No scars, hair color, anything like that?”
“I was just getting my mail, and I didn’t hang around to look closely at him or ask any questions. Black hair, though. Tall. Really tan.”
“Thanks, Sarah. And I’ll pass along your message.”
Harley shut the door and thought about it for a few minutes. Someone had said they’d debugged her apartment. That meant it had been bugged at one point. So who did that kind of thing except the police? Why would they do it? Sarah’s description sounded like Bobby. But that wasn’t something he’d do on his own. He’d send someone else disguised as a plumber or cable guy. No, it didn’t make much sense.
She went back to the balcony door and tested the lock. Firmly fastened. There was a chill around the doorjamb, and she looked more closely. Someone had stuck something sharp in it, like a screwdriver or crowbar. Maybe that’s how they’d gotten in to hide bugs wherever they’d hidden them. But again—why?
It wasn’t the guys who were after Jordan. Their methods were more of a blitz attack. She didn’t think they’d bother with bugging her apartment. They’d just break in and do what they wanted. Like at Tootsie’s.
But why break in at all? Why attack her or Tootsie? It wasn’t like either of them had any information that could incriminate or apprehend the guys involved in the money-laundering scheme. She was convinced that’s what it had to be. Nothing else made sense. Jordan had been laundering money through his accounting firm and gotten greedy. The guys who provided him the money to launder wanted it back. She imagined they weren’t too subtle in their demands, either.
So Jordan panicked, hired her to find out who was trying to kill him, blamed the attempts on his ex or soon-to-be ex-wife, then killed Felicia for the insurance money. It’d apparently been a lot easier than going through a divorce. And certainly more profitable.
Poor Felicia. She’d thought they were in love and going on a second honeym
oon. Then Jordan used Harley as a smokescreen, someone to say his ex was trying to kill him so he wouldn’t be blamed when she was killed. Police always suspected the spouse first.
Only things had backfired. Harley figured out Felicia wasn’t trying to kill him and that he was mixed up with some really nasty guys. So Jordan had to scare her into backing off enough to be able to carry out his original plan, which was to murder Felicia and collect her insurance money. That was it. Except for a few details, she must know everything.
It all seemed so simple. She wasn’t quite sure how the police being involved was going to figure in, but there was a solid explanation for it, she was positive of that.
When Morgan came in with two big Taco Bell bags, she was waiting impatiently.
“I know most of what happened and why,” she said as he set the bags on the kitchen counter.
He glanced at her, then said, “Get some plates, and you can tell me about it while we eat. I have a feeling I’m going to need to be strong enough to hear this latest theory.”
Harley was almost too excited to eat, but she worked halfway through a bean burrito before she said, “Jordan is behind most of what’s been going on. I think he’s the one who planned everything, then had to scramble when they figured out he was stealing from them.”
“Who are they and them?”
“Well, the construction firm, of course. Harvey Fine and his associates.”
“Fine isn’t connected with Shadowlawn Construction. I checked.”
Annoyed, Harley said, “Well, of course not! They have front men to make it look legitimate. Fine is mixed up in it, I’m sure of that. He told me as much the night of the Halloween party.”
Morgan eyed her over his taco. “He told you he’s connected with Shadowlawn?”
“More or less. He told me to butt out. He was arguing with Tootsie, too, upset that he’d been looking into the company.”
“And how would he know that?”
Harley blinked. That question stumped her. How did Fine know she and Tootsie had been looking into the company? It wasn’t like there was a guestbook to sign. She’d have to ask Tootsie about spyware. That had to be it.
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