I didn’t want to say anything, but I fully expected the new salon on the corner to be closed. So far, I’d only seen it open once. But I was glad I’d kept my thoughts to myself when I saw the open sign on the door.
Adele went in ahead of us, directly to the front desk, and asked to speak to a manicurist. She had no idea the receptionist was one of Dinah’s students and got upset when the young woman seemed more intent on greeting Dinah than fulfilling Adele’s request.
“My friend wants to talk to someone about a fancy manicure,” Dinah said. I saw Adele’s face light up at being referred to as a friend. It meant so much to Adele, but she made it so hard.
“You can go on back. She just finished doing the nails of one of the owners.” Emily directed us to go around the partition that blocked part of the view.
A woman with long black hair was cleaning up after her work and looked up at the three of us. “Be with you in a minute,” she said as she went to straighten a lambskin pad on the seat.
“Mind if I try it?” Adele asked, settling into the chair.
“It’s a pretty good fake, don’t you think?” the woman said as she put away the footbath and straightened the polishes. “The owner is allergic to wool,” she added as an explanation. “Now what can I do for you?” She looked at the three of us.
Adele showed her the magazine pictures, and the woman glanced them over and set the magazine down. She seemed confident she could replicate the designs and had a bunch of questions about how many people would be getting manicures, would they be coming to the store or did Adele want her to do them on location, and when was the date. As soon as the woman heard the date hadn’t been set, she seemed a lot less interested and just gave Adele her card. “You can always reach me at this number.” She glanced around her surroundings. “Who knows about this place?”
As we walked outside, Adele linked arms with us. “Getting your nails done is such a girlfriend thing to do.” It didn’t seem to matter to her that we hadn’t actually gotten anything done to our nails. “I suppose Dinah wants you to be her maid of honor, too,” Adele said, suddenly looking glum. “And if she gets married first it won’t be so special to be in my wedding.”
“Believe me, Adele, being in your wedding will definitely be a unique experience,” I said when we reached the bookstore. Dinah pulled free and hugged each of us good-bye then went on her way as Adele and I walked inside.
I went toward the information booth, and Adele headed to the kids’ section to get ready for story time.
Mrs. Shedd caught me as I was going across the store. “Before you get situated, could you take the deposit? I forgot to put in a bunch of checks yesterday.”
By now I’d run through the whole gamut of emotions about handling the deposits. First I’d been honored that she trusted me with them, then scared that I was carrying the cash all alone, and now it was just something to get done with.
I grabbed the blue plastic pouch and headed outside before Adele had a chance to see what I was doing. I didn’t want her to insist on playing bodyguard again. The drive down Ventura Boulevard to the bank was uneventful. With the sun out again, people were taking their time walking in from the parking lot, and there were a lot of people coming and going.
I had the routine down now and without thinking about it went right to the merchant teller. It was the same teller I had dealt with before, but then she’d said there were just two of them who worked the business accounts.
When it was my turn, I handed her the deposit. As long as I was here, I thought I might as well see if I could get any more information about Delaney.
I mentioned the business card with the note on the back of it. “Do you know what it was about?” At first the woman shrugged, but then her eyes lit up and she nodded.
“Now that you mention it, Delaney did say something about going to a party. I forgot all about that after what happened. Delaney showed me the back of the card and said she’d been invited to a party by a customer—I mean client.”
“Did she mention who it was?” I asked.
“No. A lot of people treat us tellers as if we’re invisible. Delaney never could handle that and made sure she was noticed by remembering details about clients and commenting on their transactions. I think the idea that one of them invited her to a party meant a lot to her.”
She handed me the deposit receipt, and I saw her eyes go to the line that had formed. I thanked her and moved away. I stopped for a moment to put away the receipt, and when I looked up, Evan Willis had just joined the end of the business line. As before, he was dressed in track pants and a matching jacket, and he carried a sports bag. Like the rest of the people in the line, he was gazing at his smartphone. I hung off to the side and watched as he moved up the line. When it was his turn, he unzipped the bag and began to unload packets of cash. He didn’t make any conversation with the teller but just slipped the cash through the window as she put it in the machine to be counted.
I thought back to what Tony had said about the Willises buying a business. It must have been doing well, because his deposit was a lot bigger than the one I’d made for the bookstore. I know I should have just left, but I was curious now about what was doing so well. I stayed just out of sight until he headed back to the door, then I walked behind two women who were also going outside. Evan had parked his white Maserati close to the door, and I had parked toward the back of the parking lot. As he got in his car, I sprinted toward mine.
He had pulled out on Ventura Boulevard, and I hit the gas hard to catch up. I got a few dirty looks as I raced through the parking lot. As I turned onto the main street, Evan’s car was only a few ahead of mine. After a few blocks, I saw him put on his left turn signal. It was only when I got behind him that I realized he was turning onto the street that bordered the bookstore. He made it through before the light turned red, but I was caught waiting. I saw the Maserati pull into what I considered the bookstore parking lot. Really, though, it served the whole block of stores with entrances to the lot on both streets.
I made it through the next stoplight and pulled into the lot. I drove around until I saw the Maserati, then I parked a distance away. The greenmobile wasn’t great for tailing somebody—the color and the vintage style made it stand out.
I got out and crouched low as I saw him get out of his car. He had the blue bag with him but seemed a lot more relaxed than he had at the bank. He seemed to be crossing the whole parking lot. I zigzagged through the parked cars in case he turned around. Just as I was about to walk behind a silver Honda, it began to back up. I stopped so suddenly that I almost tripped over my own feet, and when I looked up, Evan was just going into the back door of the store on the corner. It was closed by the time I reached it. The small sign on the door said Nail Spa. I thought back to the time I’d seen him at the bank before. I’d been nervous about making the deposit, and the teller had tried to reassure me that she’d just had a customer bring in a lot more cash than I had. Adele had asked what kind of a business it was. I thought the teller hadn’t answered, but now I got it. When she called after us and I thought she said Manny or Molly, she was saying mani, as in manicure. And the customer must have been Evan. How odd. When I went around to the front, the “Closed” sign was up and it was empty and dark.
I had to get back to the bookstore. Considering when I’d left to deposit the money, if I didn’t show up soon, Mrs. Shedd would probably call the cops. For a minute I laughed to myself, thinking of Barry hearing there was an APB out for me because I’d disappeared with a bag of cash.
CHAPTER 27
I didn’t have any more time to think about Evan or Delaney. The bookstore was busy, and we had two groups meeting there that day. At noon, it was open mic for the poetry group. They were an emotional bunch who didn’t take criticism well, so I had to be there to referee. The romance readers were meeting as well, but they were easy, since they were just about love.
I spent the rest of the afternoon making sure everything was up to date for Yarn University. Mason and I had been in touch during the day. He wanted to make sure I was coming by that evening. I was still dealing with his suggestion that I stop investigating Delaney Tanner’s death. He hadn’t said it, but I knew it was because he was worried about what I might turn up about Tony. I understood that Mason’s job was solely to defend Tony, but I needed to know what had really happened. And I thought dealing with Brooklyn scowling at me and Jaimee staying there was a problem!
Eventually, I tried to put all my conflicted feelings in the back of my mind, convinced everything would work out. Once he didn’t have the scooter and the two women were gone, things would be different. And I had been the one to call him to help Tony. Life was just a bumpy ride.
It was just getting dark when I drove over there. As I walked to the front door and took out my key, I mentally prepared myself to face his sullen daughter and over-the-top ex-wife. I opened the door, and Spike came running into the foyer, barking to announce my arrival. Something smelled delicious. Mason came scooting down the hall to greet me and was upbeat and energetic as he gave me a welcome kiss. “I just want to thank you again for giving me the push I needed to get my life back by throwing a client at me.” He let out a satisfied sigh. “Brooklyn has been helping me all day.”
I sagged at the mention of her name, but Mason continued. “I told her to take the evening off. She went off with her sister somewhere. And Jaimee is gone, too. I didn’t ask for details—all I know is she isn’t here.”
We’d reached the den, where his favorite detective was on the screen in freeze-frame mode. “Enough of his shenanigans,” Mason said. “It’s back to real life.” He used the remote to turn it off.
“Dinner’s waiting.” He took my hand and scooted alongside me as we went to the dining room. No food containers and paper plates this time. Instead the table was set and the food was actually in serving dishes. My mouth watered from the smell of garlic from the Caesar salad.
“It’s from Fabrocini’s, isn’t it?” I looked over the array of items from our favorite spot for Italian food. The stuffed mushrooms looked delicious. There was ravioli with marinara sauce, a platter of grilled vegetables and flatbread with tomatoes and cheese.
“We’ve got cheesecake with strawberries as well,” Mason said. “Brooklyn went and got it, and I did the rest.” He did a mock bow as he gestured for me to sit. “It’s just the two of us for the rest of the evening. I won’t need this much longer.” He gave the scooter bell a slow pull, and the bell barely rang before he pushed it off to the side and hopped into a chair adjacent to me. We started to pass the plates of food around. “Soon life will go back to normal, and in the meantime we can make some plans.” He turned to me with a happy smile. “How does that sound?”
I put a mound of Caesar salad on my plate and added a sprinkle of freshly ground pepper. “That sounds wonderful. So, tell me again about money laundering.”
“What?” he said with a chuckle. “I thought we’d talk about us. The first day I’m done with this scooter, we’re going to the beach. We’ll pick up cappuccinos and watch the sunset.” He looked at me for a reaction and saw that I was serious about my request.
“I can’t believe we’re going to waste our evening alone talking about money laundering.” He sighed in resignation. “What do you want to know?”
“How to do it.”
Mason’s face broke into a big grin. “Are you planning on starting on a new venture?”
“Very funny,” I said. “Just tell me how it works.”
It was such a relief to see the Mason I’d come to love make an appearance as he began to talk. “It’s all about taking money, usually cash from some nefarious activity, and passing it along as money from a legitimate business.” He stopped to collect his thoughts. “It’s better if I give you an example, like from that show I was watching. The PI was depositing cash in an account for a chain of Laundromats.” Mason rolled his eyes at the cliché before he continued. “As long as the deposits were small enough, the bank accepted them without any question. It makes perfect sense—if you have a business that deals with a lot of cash, you will be making lots of deposits. Once the money is in the bank account, it can be used to pay for anything—a boat, a house, big credit card bills. You could even send it to someone else. The big thing is just getting rid of all those dollar bills.” Mason stopped to take a sip of water. “I hope this is just curiosity on your part and not something you’re investigating because of Delaney Tanner’s death?”
I had been hoping he wouldn’t say something like that, so I was contemplating how to answer when the doorbell rang.
“We could ignore it,” Mason said in a playful voice, clearly having no idea I was unhappy with what he’d said. But the words were barely out of his mouth when the chimes sounded again, so Mason got off the chair and onto the scooter, and I trailed behind as we went to the front door. “I hope it’s a Girl Scout selling cookies. We can buy some and get rid of them in a hurry.” He opened the door, but there were no cookies or girls in green uniforms, just Jaimee’s ex.
“Todd, if you’re looking for Jaimee, she’s not here,” Mason said.
“I know. I thought you might be able to help,” Todd said. Mason hesitated, then sighed and told Todd to come in.
Mason leaned toward me and spoke under his breath. “Anything to get them back together and get her out of here.”
Todd seemed really upset as Mason took him in the den. The two men sat down, and I wasn’t sure what I should do, so I basically hovered at the back of the room and tried to pretend I was looking at the pool.
“I took your advice and tried to woo her, and it’s not working. She won’t even pick up my calls. Has she met someone else?”
Mason shook his head and chuckled to himself. “It’s really weird for me to be trying to help you mend fences with my ex. I have to ask—why? You’re a young guy, an athlete. There must be other women you give tennis lessons to who would love to be your—” Mason hesitated, and I knew he was trying to find the right term. “Uh, your girlfriend,” he said finally. “Why Jaimee?”
Todd took a moment. “Everybody has different turn-ons. For me it’s a woman a few years older than me. Jaimee and I had something special. You should see the rackets she had made for me.” He glanced around the room. “She didn’t bring my stuff here, did she?”
“I think she said she put everything in storage while her house is being redone,” Mason said. Todd hung his head, and when I saw his profile, I had a feeling of déjà vu. He must have held his head that way last time he was there.
I thought Mason was going to choke when Todd started going on about how sharp and clever Jaimee was and how much he missed her.
“She felt neglected by you,” Mason said. “She told me you had something else going on.” The way Mason said it, it was clear that he thought the something else was another girlfriend, one probably richer and younger than Jaimee.
“Is that what Jaimee thinks?” Todd asked, clearly getting Mason’s implication. “I don’t know what to do to convince her that she’s wrong.”
I had been staying in the background, but I wanted them to get back together, and the sooner, the better, so I jumped in. “Maybe I can help you. Give you a woman’s perspective. I heard what Jaimee said, and I think she was the most hurt that you didn’t invite her to stay with you while her house was fixed up.”
“I just have a small place,” he explained.
“Just call it cozy,” I suggested. “If you want her back, that’s what you need to do.” He seemed to be mulling it over.
“If that’s what it takes,” Todd said. “I’ll do it, but don’t say anything to her. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do anything to mess it up. So, then, the problem is solved,” Mason said, easing himself back onto t
he scooter to show Todd to the door. Jaimee’s boy toy seemed more optimistic as he followed Mason.
When Mason returned, we tried to enjoy the rest of the evening, but the mood never really bounced back after Todd left. The worst part was that after Mason’s comments about me investigating, I couldn’t even discuss what I’d found out.
The greeting committee was waiting when I got home, so I took care of all their needs then made myself a cup of rose tea and sat down at my kitchen table. I had a lot on my mind as I stared out at the dark yard. It was one of those times when I really wanted to talk to someone. Dinah must have been having the same sort of feeling, because a moment later she called and invited herself over.
She was knocking at my back door just as I finished putting together a mug for her. She dropped her coat in the kitchen, and the scent of roses surrounded us as we took our drinks into the living room. Dinah was already unloading before we even sat down on the couches.
“After listening to Adele talking about wedding dresses, bouquets, fancy manicures . . .” Dinah looked at me. “I’m leaning toward saying ‘no’ again. I don’t know if I’m up for all that fuss.”
“No one is saying you have to make the same big deal out of it that Adele is. I’m sure Commander would be fine if you didn’t have flowers on your nails.” I chuckled at the idea of my friend having an elaborate manicure, since I’d never seen her wear any polish. But the mention of manicures made me think of what had happened after we’d left the nail salon earlier that day.
I told her about my trip to the bank and following Evan Willis afterward. “He got away before I could see exactly where he went, but I’m sure he went in the back door of the nail salon.”
Dinah set her mug on the coffee table. “Well, I can see why they might be keeping it quiet. From everything you’ve told me about his wife and how she thinks she’s one step above everybody . . . well, owning a nail salon doesn’t quite go with that image, even if Emily did tell me the other day after class that there are three of them.”
Seams Like Murder Page 21
