I slipped on the night vision goggles and adjusted them. They were tight, making my eyes feel nearly suctioned out of my head. And they smelled like an army surplus store, rubbery and musty. But I still felt very Nikita in them. I stopped every few feet to listen for footsteps, breathing or other sounds.
Nothing.
It felt like an unoccupied house.
Nothing had changed as far as I could see. A few dozen books remained scattered on the floor and in the bookcases. This time, I searched carefully for the three missing titles. I peered under the overturned chairs and under the sofa. I checked under all the seat cushions and ventured into the dining room. But there was no luck. I felt like I’d been robbed. Vera sure had been.
Slowly, I crept up the stairs, hoping that the quality of the Craftsman house would mean that the stairs wouldn’t creak. The Converse didn’t let me down, soundless as long as I didn’t drag my feet.
On the second floor, I felt my way around. In my humble opinion, night vision goggles are overrated, except if you want to give someone else nightmares. It didn’t take long, although I double-checked upstairs and even looked under the beds and in the bathrooms. I didn’t care for my role as a light-fingered housebreaker, even though the Adamses were most likely long gone and probably had different names by now. Whoever would deal with the contents of the house, it wouldn’t be them. Still, I was reluctant to follow my uncles’ path. I needed to be honest and aboveboard, although this might not have been immediately obvious by my visit to this house in the night sporting dark clothing and night vision goggles. Still some loose ends to be worked out, you might say.
Once this was over, if Randolph showed up, Karen and I would hand over the Hemingway with smiles on our faces.
After another close check to make sure I hadn’t overlooked the books, I decided it was time to go. I headed downstairs. I needed a new plan, but my brain wasn’t cooperating. As I tiptoed through the kitchen, close to making my getaway, a voice came from the dark.
“Gotcha!”
Chapter Eleven
I SHRIEKED AND careened into the kitchen table, knocking over a chair as I went. Something crashed onto the floor. Delilah’s teapot, maybe. I tried to skitter away from the voice.
“Stop right there!”
Stop right there? They had to be kidding. I turned and headed for the front door and safety. Some people think everyone else is stupid. Even though they shocked me with “Gotcha!” I wasn’t foolish enough to “stop right there.” I grabbed a lamp as I dashed through the living room. I could always throw it to trip my assailant or bean her. Funny, I wasn’t expecting a woman, I thought in my panic. As I lunged for the door, the lights came on.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
I whirled. My brain whirled with me.
Officer Candy Mortakis was the last person I expected to see.
“Candy?”
“Uh-huh.” She glowered at me, not a good look for her. Although my goggles may have made her look worse than she really did.
I decided to try for the upper hand, although it is possible I appeared to be a bit underhanded what with the night vision goggles on and the floor lamp in my hand like a javelin, although with a cord dangling on the ground. “What are you doing here?”
She sighed. “Really? Don’t you think that I should ask you that? You are the person who is unlawfully in a dwelling. Were you planning to steal that lamp?”
“What? Steal the lamp? Of course not, why would I steal a lamp?”
“It is in your hand.”
“I don’t even like this lamp.” I put it down on the floor. After all, I wasn’t going to bean Candy with it.
She sighed dramatically. “You could see why I’d ask.”
“Sure I can, but I wanted it as a weapon in case I had to bean you! Well, not you, but the person who was chasing me, or that I thought was chasing me because I didn’t know it was you. How could I know?”
“Easy enough if the light was on.”
“True, true. But there has been a murder on this street and my friend is missing. I thought I’d like to see if I could find some kind of . . .”
There was no way I could fill in the missing bits of this puzzle without implicating myself.
“Yes?” She raised an eyebrow. “Some kind of . . . ?”
I noticed that the friendly, slightly goofy Candy had disappeared, replaced by someone too cop-like for comfort.
I sighed. “Evidence. Some indication of where Delilah and Mason had taken Randolph. I know it’s a job for the police, but you guys are busy trying to find out about the victim and track down whoever killed him. Except for you, no one was in the least bit interested in Randolph.” Of course, I knew that unless Candy had told them, most of her colleagues had no way of knowing about the Adams drama. I added, “I’m so worried and I know that Mason and Delilah and maybe even Randolph are probably crooks, but he’s just a fragile old man. What if they hurt him? I’m sure you understand.”
“I understand that you’ve broken a few laws.”
“Not actually,” I said. “But . . .” My heart was still thundering. What if Candy decided to arrest me? How do police keep any friends anyway?
She said, “Couldn’t you have told me you were coming back? Or that you were still so worried? I thought we were friends. I could have helped you. I could have done an additional search. You didn’t have to break the law.”
“Oh. That didn’t occur to me. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly. And this was sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Yet here you are, wearing night vision goggles.”
“Right. They are neat, aren’t they? I mean, not an attractive look for a woman, but still amazing what they can do.”
“Burglars do find them handy, but they imply premeditation.”
“They do? Why would that be? Oh, you’re implying I’m a burglar because I was wearing them and not turning the lights on?”
“Got it in one.”
“For sure that must look planned, but in fact, these goggles were in a pile of junk that I found in a closet in my attic apartment. I think my predecessor left them there. I kept them to use as a Halloween costume. They are ridiculously creepy, aren’t they? He was a bit weird. So it seemed like a fun idea to wear them and not worry about alarming the neighbors. Everyone’s so jumpy.”
I had had a predecessor, and he might have had goggles, no way to prove or disprove that, but I was very careful not to go dragging my uncles into this situation. They were innocent for once.
“Whatever. Face it. Stop babbling. You made a plan to come here. And you didn’t include me.”
“Fair enough. I’m sorry. I haven’t been very good company because I’m so worried about what might have happened to Randolph. I just wanted go home and go to sleep after the day we had. Then after I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep after all and, then, I got this idea.”
“You could have called me.”
“True, but you are a police officer. You would have told me not to do it.”
“I guess. But I might have come up with a solution. Now look at the pickle you’re in.”
“Yes. Although I didn’t do any harm. Didn’t hurt anyone. Didn’t damage the property. Didn’t steal anything.” It was a good thing I hadn’t found those books. “Check my bag if you don’t believe me. I have nothing to hide.” Said the woman in the night vision goggles.
She glowered at me. “I guess no harm was done.”
A wave of relief washed over me. “Were you responding to a call? Do you have to make a report? Oh, you’re not in uniform.”
She shrugged. “I’m on my own time.”
I felt a little shiver of relief. “Did you call it in?”
“No. I didn’t know what you were up to. I didn’t want to . . .”
“Of course, you didn’t. That’s what friends are for. They don’t jump to conclusions about people they care about.”
“Care about” might have been pushi
ng it, as we hadn’t known each other a full day at this point, but it seemed to work with her.
“I was at loose ends,” she said. “I went over to Dani’s Diner and had some fries then decided to rent a DVD to watch by myself.” Wow. She could have run a guilting class. She was a master.
“Sorry again. I suppose we could have watched it together,” I said, trying my best to look like I meant it. I pulled off the mask. It wasn’t doing me any favors.
“I rented Bridesmaids,” she said. “I heard it was funny. Anyway, then I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep after all, so I drove by here.”
I stopped myself from saying sorry again. “So you couldn’t sleep either.”
“I couldn’t, but I didn’t expect to find you. I never thought you’d do anything illegal.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
She kept on talking. “Now it makes me wonder if you took advantage of me when you got me to show you the house yesterday. And again when I found out about the Adamses for you. I could get in a lot of trouble for that.”
She was right, of course, and it had occurred to me that Officer Candy, with her desperate need for friendship and her inability to see criminal activity—even when it almost beaned her with a lamp—was not going to shoot up the ladder to make detective here in Burton any more than she would have back at home.
She finished by saying, “I’m sure you understand that.”
“I hope you won’t get into trouble. I wasn’t up to anything bad, but you told me that the Adamses were not who they said they were and I started to worry what if Randolph was a prisoner, something like that. A hostage? A kidnap victim? Maybe that’s why he disappeared three years ago. Perhaps it was under duress. Maybe he was forced to—anyway, I was looking for clues. I thought if I could just stand in the house for a bit, I’d gain some understanding. It was stupid, I know.”
She shuddered. “You know what? The whole thing with the murder and the Adams family disappearing is creepy. This is not the kind of thing we deal with here in Burton. It’s a pretty tame little town. It’s why I wanted to work here.”
Officer Candy wouldn’t have lasted a minute in any major city, even with the best of contacts. I wasn’t even sure how she’d survived the police academy. She was just a lonely girl in need of a friend.
I put on my best lost-kitten expression, the one my uncles could never resist. “So what now?”
A tiny hesitation on her part told me my strategy (such as it was) had worked.
“I know you’re not a criminal. You were just trying to help your friend. And I did let you in here earlier. But you can’t do anything like this again.”
I was pretty sure that Candy’s decision was against all the policies and procedures of the Burton police, but I was grateful. I’d definitely watch a DVD with her at some point. Bridesmaids. Baby Mama. Identity Thief. She could pick. “I appreciate it. And of course, I’m not a criminal.”
She sniffed. “I just hope next time you’ll keep me in the loop.”
I said, “Really, I don’t plan on doing this again, but even if, um, something happened, I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I can look after myself. It’s you, my friend, that I’m worried about.”
Seriously? Between the two of us, my money would always be on me.
“So,” she said, “do you feel like pizza? Maybe at Domenico’s All Night?”
I absolutely did not feel like pizza, especially from Domenico’s All Night, but what could I do? At least it was in Harrison Falls. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you there. I might need to get gas, so go ahead and order if you get there first.”
She snorted. “Of course I’ll get there first.”
• • •
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I pulled up in the Saab, having dropped off the Civic at my uncles’ extra garage. I made darn sure that Officer Candy wasn’t following me.
For some reason, my teeth were chattering and I’d put on the vintage plaid cape. Officer Candy had already ordered two large pizzas, one all dressed and the other double cheese and double bacon. She widened her eyes as she spotted the cape.
“A steal at a vintage shop,” I explained. “I love the era.” As we sat there, she kept smiling at me. I did my best to smile back. I am not a person who likes to take advantage of other people by feigning friendship. Give her a chance, I reminded myself. She’s new here and she’s desperate for companionship. Those good old boys on the force would probably be pretty hard to take. Of course, there was no evidence that the other cops were anything but pleasant and professional, good solid colleagues, but I had a feeling that all wasn’t going well.
“So,” I said brightly, “how do you like this new job?”
She shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess.”
“Are the other officers good to work with?”
She fixed me with a glare. “Do you mind? I’d just as soon not talk about it or them while we’re eating.”
“Oh. Sorry. Just making conversation, not trying to be pushy.”
She snorted. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you push me.”
I guessed I’d reattach my head later.
I worked my way through my pizza for a while. It seemed weird to be eating pizza at one thirty in the morning after one of the signora’s dinners and a super snack. I felt breakfast looming.
After a long silence, Candy said, “So do you want to hear the latest about this dead guy?”
Uh, yeah! “Sure.”
“I went by the station when you left to get gas and I got the latest.”
“Awesome.” I nodded encouragement.
“He’s associated with . . . Maybe I shouldn’t share this with you.”
“Only if you feel all right about it, Candy. No pressure here.” No pressure? I thought my hair would catch fire, but I had to be cool. Better if it was Candy’s idea rather than mine.
“Doesn’t matter. I guess it’s not a secret. The guy was Pierre Gagnon. He’s French from Canada.”
“Oh.”
“Mean anything?”
“French from Canada? No, it doesn’t. Nothing.”
“I mean his name.”
I shook my head and tried to keep the cheese from dripping down my chin.
She said, “Serious criminal.”
“Oh. I’m not in the loop about that kind of—”
“I suppose not. He’s supposed to be a hit man, although he’s never been charged. I hear he works for very bad people in Albany and Buffalo. Cops know who he is, but they never managed to prove anything in court.”
I put my pizza back on my plate. “A hit man? Really?”
“Would I lie to you?”
How would I know if Candy would lie to me? We’d been “friends” for about ten minutes. And it was a strange and one-sided friendship.
“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” she said.
It sure did. What was a hit man doing watching Randolph’s house? It had to be connected to the stolen money and those high-level mobsters.
“That must have been why they kept to themselves,” I said. “Someone was after them.”
“Looks that way.”
“And they knew it. That’s why they were so reclusive. With all that security. Delilah and Mason were jumpy as cats.”
“Yup.”
I said, “So possibly they weren’t kidnapping Randolph. Do you think they might have been fleeing from a hit man?”
She nodded.
I blurted, “But who killed the hit man?”
“The big boys of Burton are working on that.”
Yes, and I really didn’t want Uncle Kev or Officer Smiley to come up on the radar while the big boys were on the job.
She added, “Do you think Delilah or Mason or Randolph was the type to stab someone?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know. I don’t have any way to know. Obviously, they were practically strangers. Wait a minute, what am I saying? I’m sure they would kill a hit m
an if he was trying to kill them. Randolph might not have been capable of it. But Delilah would defend her son and herself—I’m sure of it. Mason would defend himself. And a young guy would definitely defend his mom too.” Actually Mason had seemed extremely sullen and self-centred to me, but you never know. “But to stab someone? That seems hard to imagine. If he’d been shot, now that seems more defensive to me, somehow.” I stopped talking and shuddered.
“That’s my line of thinking too.”
I said, “But if they got close enough to stab him, he could have shot them. Why didn’t he?”
She hadn’t actually stopped eating her all-dressed pizza throughout our conversation. She could shrug and eat. She shrugged. “They thought they had to deal with it. And they did.”
But most people don’t ever have to deal with a hit man. What had they been involved in? Whatever, it went way beyond books. And it was very bad news.
“So if he was coming for them it would be a good defense. Then they couldn’t hang around to tell the police, because they were on the run from someone.”
“Exactly.”
“But we don’t know who.”
“We have some ideas.”
“Well, that’s good.”
I didn’t ask and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who that someone might be. I hoped that whoever it was didn’t get the idea that I was involved with the Adamses. And that I didn’t have something he wanted. It would be terrible if Karen was in danger too. We might need some protection, although I was pretty sure my new best friend wasn’t the most effective first line of defense.
“I really hope Randolph is all right. I can’t believe he could be involved in anything dangerous or criminal. And even if he was, I really don’t think he’d be able to fend off any would-be assassin.”
She said, “Of course, that wouldn’t be necessary now, since the would-be assassin is in the morgue.”
“Right. And I guess they got away and may be able to steer clear of whoever hired the hit man. Because that person could just as easily hire another hit man. Do you have any idea who the person behind the hit would be?”
The Sayers Swindle (A Book Collector Mystery) Page 17
