I reached over and picked up one of the computer printouts and read the heading across the top of it. “Sarasota Herald-Tribune—Siesta Key.” It was Levi’s delivery list, with the names and addresses of his entire route. There were about fifteen names that had been marked with a yellow highlighter, and at the end of each one was a notation: “Stop Delivery.”
That list was what Daniela had been after.
There’d be plenty of time to figure out the details later, but for now, it was slowly dawning on me that Levi must have been selling his delivery lists to criminals, who were then targeting any house whose paper had been stopped temporarily because they were on vacation … which meant their houses would be vacant and ripe for picking. That would explain the string of burglaries in the area that Paco and Tom had mentioned.
And I couldn’t prove it yet, but I now knew it was either Fiori or his goon or Daniela who had stabbed Levi, maybe even with the knife Daniela had used to cut me free. They had murdered him for the same reason they’d murdered poor Mr. Paxton: so he wouldn’t talk.
I remembered Mona telling me she knew Levi had been hanging out with some rather shady characters, one of them a “Mexican,” and that he drove a motorcycle. I had a feeling I knew exactly who that particular shady character was. He answered on the first ring.
“Dixie?”
I said, “Paco, I know you said this number was only for emergencies, but I’m pretty sure this qualifies.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story but we need to hurry. When I was leaving Tom Hale’s place today, somebody jumped me. They hit me over the head and took me to a self-storage unit south of town, and then they locked me up in a refrigerator.”
He said slowly, “A self-storage unit…”
As soon as I heard the tone of his voice, I knew my instincts were right. If there happened to be a local ring of thieves selling stolen artifacts on the black market, it was a pretty sure bet that Paco and the Special Investigations unit would be on the case.
I said, “Yeah. There were three of them. Two men and a woman. The woman let me go. I’m driving down Tamiami…” I paused, trying to figure out the best way to phrase what I needed to tell him. Being a secret agent, Paco has to deal with crap most people never even dream of, like, for example, the fact that at any given moment somebody might be listening in on his phone conversations.
I said, “Paco, the thing is, Ella needs you.”
“Ella?”
“Yeah. She’s got company on the way right now … and they’re dangerous.”
I could almost hear his mind working over the phone. He said, “Uh-huh. How do they know where she lives?”
“She’s on their list.”
“Their list?”
I said, “Yeah … their delivery list.”
There was a long pause, and then he spoke quickly. “Okay, listen. Call the cops right now and tell them everything. Are you someplace safe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay. Don’t go anywhere until you hear from me.”
I said, “Paco, be careful.”
“Don’t worry.”
I hung up and dialed Detective McKenzie’s number without even thinking. She answered with a short, “McKenzie here.”
I took a deep breath. “Detective, it’s Dixie. There’s no time to explain everything now, but I know who killed Levi. It’s a man named Fiori. He was trying to track down an ancient statue called Pachamama that Mrs. Keller bought. I think it was stolen from a museum or a church in the Andes and sold on the black market, and I think it’s probably worth way more than she paid for it … like millions.”
I paused to take a breath and McKenzie said, “How do you know all this?”
“They kidnapped me, and I heard them talking.”
She took a quick breath. “All right, where are you?”
I said, “I escaped. I’m in my car, but they think I’m still locked in a storage unit. And detective, there’s a body there. It’s Wilfred Paxton. He’s the owner of the Paxton gallery downtown. They thought he was double-crossing them, but really it was his assistant, Daniela. She’s on her way to the airport with that figurine right now. She’s trying to take it back home where it belongs.”
“What storage unit?”
“It’s called Happy Time. It’s on Tamiami Trail just south of Sarasota. It’s unit number nine. There’s a big duffel bag, and his body’s inside it.”
She said, “Dixie, are you sure?”
“Unfortunately, yeah, I’m positive.”
“Okay, I’m sending a unit there now and I’ll alert airport security. Where are you?”
I shook my head. “There’s one more thing. Fiori and his henchman … they’re headed to my house, in fact they may already be there. And I think if you check with the SIB, you’ll find they’ve already sent a team there.”
There was a long pause. “Dixie, why are they going to your house?”
“They think I took Pachamama. I was supposed to deliver it to them, but Daniela got to it first and replaced it with a jar of cornmeal.”
“A what…?”
“Yeah. It was Daniela that attacked me at the Kellers’ house. And those candles I saw? She was performing a ritual to Pachamama. There’s even some cornmeal sprinkled in Mrs. Keller’s garden outside—that’s why those doors were open—but Barney Feldman interrupted her.”
“Dixie, I have no idea what … I mean, I don’t know why…”
I nodded. “I can explain everything later.”
She sighed. “Okay, where are you now?”
“I’m in my car, a few miles south of Happy Time.”
“Where specifically?”
I looked out the window at the sign over the store in front of me. “I’m in the parking lot of Henderson’s Liquors.”
“Okay, I want you to stay where you are. I’m sending a deputy straight there. I don’t want you on the road alone, do you understand?”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait here.”
She hung up, and I dropped the phone down in the cup holder and took a deep breath. There was a steady stream of cars rolling by, and it suddenly occurred to me that if Fiori and his henchman came back anytime soon and discovered Daniela had let me go, they’d probably be cruising up and down this very road searching for me.
I started up the car and drove around behind the liquor store, where I pulled in next to a line of old metal garbage cans. Just then, my phone rang. The caller ID read Sara Mem Ho, and if I’d been thinking clearly I would have let it go to voice mail, but instead I flipped it open and said, “Yeah?”
The voice on the line said, “Uh, Dixie? This is Dr. Dunlop at Sarasota Memorial Hospital.”
I said, “Oh, Dr. Dunlop, I’m sort of in the middle of something, is it urgent?”
He said, “To be honest, yes. It’s about Mona. I thought you should probably know.”
I frowned. “Know … what?”
He said, “I examined her yesterday, and … there’s a problem.”
“Yeah, Dr. Dunlop, I should have warned you. She’s a bit unhinged. I was hoping maybe you’d be able to refer her to a psychologist or something?”
“I already have. She’s seeing an associate of mine today, but the reason I’m calling is … I don’t know if you’re aware of the cigarette burns.”
“I am. That’s why I sent her to you, and I was worried about infection.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay, yeah. I mean, I’m not so worried about infection at this point … I’m more worried about her situation at home.”
I said, “Oh, gosh. I know it’s a little hard to believe, but she’s actually doing that to herself.”
He said, “No.”
I blinked. “Yes.”
“No. Those burns are not self-inflicted. That’s why I’m calling. They’re not just on her chest, but across her back as well.”
“Oh.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe she’s reaching around with—”
He stopped me. “No. That’s what she said, too … but the burns on her back, they’re not random. They’re arranged in letters. Dixie, I think the police need to be notified. They spell out a name.”
I was staring at the line of garbage cans along the back of the liquor store, and the lid on the can closest to me was slightly ajar. Just then, almost as if on cue, something moved, and then a brown rat poked its little head out from under the lid and blinked in the bright sunlight.
I closed my eyes and said, “Dr. Dunlop. What name?”
He said, “Levi.”
34
As I drove down the main drag of Grand Pelican Commons and made my way slowly toward Mona’s trailer, the sun was already spilling long shadows across the road to the east, so I pulled the sun visor over to the left to shade my eyes.
The street was empty except for a few cars parked here and there, and at the end of the road, just beyond Mona’s place, the police tape was still strung up blocking the road to Levi’s trailer, but the deputy who had been on guard there the past few days was gone.
Mona’s car wasn’t in front, and I couldn’t see signs of Ricky anywhere except for his pogo stick lying in the lush grass just outside the porch. I noticed it had little red reflective streamers hanging from the handlebars.
Just as I started up the steps to the porch, I had the strangest feeling I was being watched. I looked up to find a great white heron, easily three feet tall, balanced on one spindly leg at the edge of the roof, with his long sharp beak turned to the right, glaring down at me with one hypnotic yellow eye. I got the impression he was trying to tell me to turn around and go home, and then, as if to make his point a little clearer, he turned his beak to the left and glared at me with his other eye.
I opened the screen door and knocked lightly, but there was no answer. I knew it was crazy, but at this point I didn’t care. I needed to talk to her. I turned the handle and the door opened with a whisper, and as I closed it behind me, I said, “Mona?”
There was no answer.
I looked around the living room. None of the lamps were on, just the late afternoon light filtering through the windows. The snowmen were all lined up on the sofa watching me silently, and all the tinsel and glass ornaments were perfectly still.
I tiptoed into the kitchen, but there was no one there, and then I moved down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible. Mona hadn’t yet cleaned up the mud stains off the carpet, and as I made my way to Mrs. Duffy’s bedroom I tried not to step on any of them. The door was standing open, and in the dim light inside I could see she was sitting propped up against her pillows, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape.
I stepped around to the side of the bed and looked down at her.
Her long white hair appeared to have been recently combed. It fell perfectly straight across her frail shoulders and came to rest at her hands, which were folded together in her lap. The bones of her fingers were almost visible, as if they had been enveloped in a translucent layer of parchment.
I thought about the story she’d told me, how she’d taken that doll to Mona on Christmas morning. I thought about how hard it must have been for her … to report her own daughter to child welfare … to know she’d brought a child into the world who was capable of such unspeakable abuse.
I could only think that if I’d been in her shoes, I’d have done anything I could to make sure Mona never went through that kind of pain again. Anything. I glanced at the closet door next to the bed, and my mind went back to that morning in the diner when Mona had asked for my help. She’d told me all about her grandmother’s illness, and how she was getting worse and didn’t have much longer to live, and how she could barely get out of bed now, and how, when she did, she needed a walker.
I thought about that morning I found Levi, when I was sitting on his front steps and Mona was passed out in front of me. I had my arm locked in place to keep her from falling down, and I looked up to see that group of children. They’d been playing in the street, but after the ambulance arrived they stood in a quiet huddle at the end of the road, watching. Just beyond them was Ricky, Mona’s little boy. He was standing on his tiptoes, straining to see, as if he couldn’t go farther, as if he wasn’t allowed beyond the edge of his own front yard.
And then I knew … Ricky hadn’t played with his pogo stick inside the house.
I turned to look at Mrs. Duffy. My hand rose to my mouth as if it had a mind of its own. Her gaunt face became clearer and clearer, and everything around her blended into the background. It was then that I realized her eyes were open, and she was watching me.
She whispered, “Hello, child.”
I said, “Mrs. Duffy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
She smiled slightly. “You can’t disturb me.”
“I was just … I mean, I came by to see Mona, but…”
“She ain’t here. She went to talk to a doctor, somebody that can help her. I guess we got you to thank for that.”
I said, “Oh, good. I’m glad. She needs help, but then … I guess you already knew that.”
The smile faded from her lips, and then finally she nodded.
I said, “Mrs. Duffy … Ricky’s not allowed to leave the front yard, is he?”
Her eyes turned steely, and for a moment we just stared at each other.
I said, “I’m just asking because he seems like such a good boy, and I don’t know how he managed to track all this dirt through the house … when your lawn is so perfect.”
Mrs. Duffy looked down at her hands and stared at them for a long time. When she finally spoke, her breathing was labored, as if every word was an effort.
She said, “The closer I come to leavin’ this world, the more I think about my daughter, and the more I wonder. I think what kind of person she was … how she could lock up her own child, her own flesh and blood. Lock her up in a cage. Starve her. Beat her. I try to think what I done wrong … to make her like that.”
Tears began streaming down her cheeks.
She said, “God tried to tell me. He gave me this cross to bear … this sickness. He wanted to warn me, to show me I was no good, and that I shouldn’t have no children to carry my bloodline on. But I was too proud … I wouldn’t listen. That’s why I know I’m goin’ to hell, and I know one day I’ll see my daughter there, too. But Mona … Mona’s different. She’s a good girl. She deserves a good life.”
Her voice had fallen to barely a whisper, and I found myself holding my breath and leaning in toward her. I said, “Mrs. Duffy … when did you know?”
She frowned slightly and turned to me.
“When did you know what Levi was doing to her?”
She took a long breath, and I thought I heard a distant rattling in her chest. “She come out of the shower. I washed her robe and folded it up with some of her things, and it was there on the dresser. She thought I was asleep, and she come in to get it. That’s when I saw … that’s when I saw that boy’s name … but I didn’t say nothin’.”
Her voice trailed away. She looked down and stared at her hands, and for a moment I had the strangest feeling that time had come to a stop. It was almost as if I could see myself in her, and it made me think of my own little girl, and how I was never given the chance to save her. Then something else flashed in my mind … it was an image of myself as a little girl, outside Mrs. White’s history class with Levi, my eyes wide open as he kissed me.
He didn’t even ask. He just took it.
Mrs. Duffy whispered, “I’m tired now. It pulled out all the strength I got left.” She closed her eyes. “You go do what you gotta do.”
I nodded silently, resisting the urge to touch the top of her hands with mine. Instead, I reached out and carefully slid the door of her closet open. There, inside, was an aluminum walker, folded flat and leaning against a stack of shoe boxes next to an old vinyl suitcase.
The plastic handles of the walker were worn and stained with use, and as my eyes followed the curving me
tal down to the carpet, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Each of the walker’s four legs were capped with a white rubber tip, and there was a ring of mud crusted around their edges. It was the same dark clay color as the spots of mud leading around the bed and down the hall … the same color, in fact, as the dirt road to Levi’s trailer.
Without looking back at Mrs. Duffy, I slid the door closed as quietly as possible, and then walked down the hall and out the front door.
* * *
The sky had turned a pale orange, like the creamy glow of a frozen dreamsicle, and the great white heron that had greeted me from the roof had flown down to the yard. He was standing perfectly still now, one leg planted firmly, the other poised in the air, scanning the lush grass for earthworms and grasshoppers.
I had been sitting in the car outside Mona’s trailer for who knows how long when my phone rang. It was Detective McKenzie. I let it ring a few more times while I considered letting it go to voice mail, but right at the last moment I flipped it open.
She said, “Dixie. I have a deputy in the parking lot at Henderson’s Liquors. He says you’re not there.”
I said, “Oh. Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t wait.”
“Okay. Where are you?”
I thought for a moment. “I’m at the beach.”
“You’re at the beach…”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I just … I felt like everything was closing in on me. I just needed something … something big to look at it.”
There was a moment of silence, and then she said, “Okay, I understand. I just wanted you to know, Mr. Fiori and another gentleman were caught lurking outside your house by a team of SIB agents. They’ve been arrested for the murder of Levi Radcliff.”
I held my breath.
“Also, I’m at Happy Time Self Storage now, and just as you said, it was indeed Wilfred Paxton in the duffel bag, but you were wrong about one thing. He was indeed shot. He was also gagged, and his arms and legs were wrapped in duct tape, but he wasn’t dead. In fact, he’s very much alive, thanks to you. We got him to the hospital just in time, and on the way there he confessed to being connected to a worldwide ring of stolen antiquities dealers.”
The Cat Sitter's Whiskers Page 22
