“Then consider it a done deal, Mitzie,” he teased.
“That’s Tipsy to you, buster.”
We both laughed then covered our mouths so as not to disturb the sleeping superstar.
And then I got serious.
Standing on tiptoe, I pressed a quick kiss to Higgs’s cheek, the scent of his fresh cologne I’d grown to love staying in my nostrils long after I pulled away.
I’m not normally so forward (heck, I’m not ever forward), but sometimes impulse gets the better of me. Not to mention, I was grateful to him for agreeing to help without dragging me through the mud and taunting me about the drool forming at the corner of my mouth.
“Thanks, Higgs. I really appreciate this.”
When his hand went to my waist, we both paused a moment, our breathing uneven, before we pulled away.
I didn’t have time to reflect on the funny jumble my insides were experiencing. I had work to do. But maybe afterward, when we’d hopefully figured this out, I’d delve deeper into my reaction to him.
Higgs winked at me. “You bet, Sister Trixie. Anything for you.”
I winced. “I bet you won’t be saying that when I’m driving you nuts with my theories.”
“We’ll see. But we have to have rules, Trixie. Rules you follow no matter what. Deal?”
Right now, I didn’t care what the rules were. I only cared that Knuckles didn’t end up hurt and Suzanne went back to Hollywood.
So I agreed, sticking out my hand. “Deal.”
He shook my hand and grinned. “Okay. I have to get back to the shelter. I’m sure Jeff’s chewing something up. Not to mention my favorite troublemaker, Mario, has turned up again, and you know how territorial he can get over that bed by the window. The staff says he’s giving Griffin a hard time about it.”
I loved Griffin. He was sweet and soft-spoken and terrified of the dark. He was always the first in line to get a bed for the night at the Guy-MCA. “You tell Griff I said hello. He likes my chicken meatball soup, by the way.”
Higgs made a face at me. “No. That’s not true. He lies and says he likes it because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings due to the fact that he thinks you’re pretty. I think Griffin has a little crush on you, Miss Lavender.”
I gave him a playful poke in his chest. “Is that how you know someone has a crush on you? When they eat your soup even though they think it’s yucky?”
“That’s a sure sign. At least one sure sign.”
“You make no bones about telling me you hate my soup. I guess I know where I stand with you then, don’t I?” I teased, before I realized what I’d said could come off as flirtatious.
He headed toward Knuckles’s front door, hands in his pockets, but his eyes gleamed. “I don’t know that you do, Sister Trixie. I don’t know that you do.”
My cheeks went flaming hot, the way they always do when I’m embarrassed.
Lately, they’d been flaming hot around Higgs more than I cared to admit.
And that was curious.
Curious, indeed.
Chapter 8
Bright and early the next day, I was more than ready to play amateur detective. I banged on Higgs’s dark green apartment door at seven a.m. sharp. He lived in a swanky high-rise overlooking the Willamette, not far from the shelter, with lots of glass and steel, totally the opposite from Knuckles’s house, which was warm and homey. But it was still very appealing, with all its sleek lines and fun metal art sculptures in the lobby.
He told me he’d bought the apartment after he’d retired from the force because he loved the amazing view of the mountains and the river, and while it was very manly, with a lot of hardwood ceilings and ironwork, I had to admit, the view really was amazing.
I’d had a restless night, spent worried about Knuckles and his ex-girlfriend. I got up before the sun and watched the news, hoping for more information, but the report mirrored the one from the night before with no new details.
Naturally, because I don’t know how to stop myself since I’d discovered this urge to solve mysteries, I hypothesized well into the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning in my big king-size bed with so many throw pillows, my head would never lack support.
Many of my theories revolved around Suzanne being a serial killer who’d killed all of her prior husbands by some nefarious means. Which meant I was being woefully petty, and I regretted that. But we couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d been through a few marriages.
Now, showered and dressed, my morning devotions done (it’s not exactly the traditional devotion. I simply map out goals for myself for the day and spend some quiet time listening to the silence), coffee in hand and one for Higgs from Betty’s, the itch to get a move on was real.
“Trixie?” a very sleepy Higgs said from beyond the crack in his apartment door.
“Reporting for duty,” I joked, giving him a salute and a smile.
He squinted at me. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Time for us to catch a killer.”
“Oooor,” he drawled on a yawn, scratching the part of his chest exposed in his bathrobe. “Time for overzealous ex-nuns to go away and come back at a more reasonable hour. I was at the shelter until four this morning, sorting out Mario and Griffin. Cal’s covering for me this morning.”
Cal Hallows being the social worker he’d hired who’d grown tired of the system, and the limitations it placed on him, and had decided to deal with the community in need directly. I liked Cal a lot. He was a thirty-something nerd who loved all things Star Wars and football.
I held up the cup of coffee and shook it at him. “But I brought coffee, strong and black. Just the way you like it—with a hint of hickory. That should help get your engine started.”
He popped the door open wide to reveal the rest of his blue-and-white striped bathrobe cinched at his waist. I was grateful Jeff bounded toward the door at me, jumping up on my thighs and almost knocking me over, distracting me from Higgs and his nightwear.
I’m still a little unsure what’s appropriate and what isn’t in male-female relationships. I never dated much before I entered the convent because I was too wrapped up doing drugs. Not that Higgs and I are dating, mind you. That’s not what I mean at all.
I just don’t know male-female protocols for a friendship, what’s acceptable and what isn’t. I didn’t know if I should look away, so I kept my eyes on Jeff.
“Jeff! No! That’s not nice. Down, Jeff, down!” Higgs reprimanded, grabbing him by the collar to pull him off me.
I winked down at Jeff. He really is the cutest, even when he’s knocking me around, trying to be the best dog he knows how to be.
“Hey, little man. You ready to help catch a killer?” Jeff let out a bark I found myself pretty impressed with. He was dogging like a champ these days. All that YouTube was paying off. “See? Jeff’s ready.”
Higgs ran a hand through his thick hair, which, by the way, didn’t look like he’d been sleeping at all, leaving me feeling a little jealous. “Jeff needs to potty, and seeing as you’re disturbing my beauty sleep and I haven’t even showered yet, I’ll take that coffee, thank you very much, and grab a shower. You can take Jeff out for potties, Detective Lavender.” He reached down and scratched Jeff’s head with a fond smile. “You gotta go potties, bud?”
Jeff ran around in circles, another sure sign he was paying attention to the videos he’d been watching.
I stepped inside and held out my hand for the leash. “Fifteen minutes, partner. That’s all you get. I have to be at the shop at noon. I want to cover as much ground as possible this morning before I have to open. I have a list of things we should do and people we should talk to. I’ve already looked up Agnar and his friends on social media, so I’m more familiar with our suspects. Want me to run what I found out by you?”
“Pushy, pushy,” he said on a groan, taking a long gulp of his coffee. “Save your list for after my coffee, Sleuth. I’m barely functioning.”
Peering up at him, I
nodded my understanding, but that didn’t stop me from telling him what I’d found on Agnar. “So you don’t want to know that he’s a rich art dealer, dealing in exotic and rare pieces?”
“I want to know everything you’ve gathered, my little Nancy Drew, after my coffee.”
I rolled my eyes, adjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “Fine. Coffee before murder, but before I take our boy here for a walk, any more news from Tansy you can share?”
He shook his head, his eyes direct if not still full of sleep. “Not a word. As far as I know, nothing’s changed. They’re calling it homicide, but I have no idea why because I didn’t see any signs of foul play.”
I nodded, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows splayed across his entire living room just beyond his brown leather couch. “Me neither, but they know something we don’t, for sure.”
“They’re probably waiting on the coroner’s report for anything definitive. We might want to do that, too, before we jump through hoops.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Play-It-Safe. We don’t have time to wait. Do you know what that woman did last night after you left?”
He gave me a skeptical glance over his coffee cup. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me…”
“She asked Knuckles to go outside and cover the solar landscaping lights because the shades in her bedroom weren’t enough to block out the glare. It was too much for her delicate sensibilities.” I said, mimicking her words from the night before.
Higgs tipped his cup at me. “Wow. Nice Suzanne impression. You’re pretty good at that breathy, sultry thing she does with her voice.”
I ignored his praise in favor of my anger. “Do you know how many landscaping lights Knuckles has, Higgs?”
He winced, shoving a hand into the pocket of his bathrobe. “A lot?”
I pointed my finger in the air. “That’s right. A. Lot. Oooh, that woman infuriates me, Higgs!”
“Did he really do it?”
I snorted in disdain. “With bells on, he did, tripping all over himself the entire way while she took a long hot bath. She’s the worst, and she’s taking advantage of him. I think Goose was spot on about her. I don’t think her mistakes had anything to do with youth. I think she’s just mean. Now, get that shower, because the sooner she goes back to wherever she came from, the sooner we can all go back to normal.”
“I’m on it,” he said, turning his back to us to head for his very white, very marble bathroom.
I latched Jeff’s leash to his collar and gave him a tug toward the door, closing it behind me. “C’mon, buddy. I need to walk off some of this steam or it’s going to come out of my ears.”
“She’s a wicked piece a work, huh, Trixie?” Jeff asked from below.
I hit the elevator button and huffed an aggravated breath. “If you only knew. Knuckles is at the market right now because concentrated orange juice is processed and Suzanne can’t put processed food in her temple of a body. She only drinks fresh. The poor man was up half the night covering landscaping lights, and then back up at the crack of dawn to go get what she needs for breakfast.”
Jeff scampered next to me as we got on the elevator, his claws clacking on the tile. “This isn’t like you, Trixie. You never complain about anything. She’s really got ya all twisted up.”
I narrowed my eyes. Just the thought of Suzanne rankled, and I couldn’t seem to stop it from showing. “She’s horrible, Jeff. I hate the way she’s abusing Knuckles and his penchant for protecting and nurturing the people he cares about.”
“Ya think he’s still got a thing for her?”
My stomach sank at the thought as I watched the display of floor numbers drop until we stopped at the lobby. “I think he’s just in a bad place in his life, missing Candice like he has lately, but I hope not. I really hope not. And she’d better not have a thing for him. She’s been a widow for two-point-two whole seconds. She should be grieving, not toying with a man she did wrong and hasn’t seen in decades.”
The elevator door popped open with a ding, and I stalked out of it, all worked up. As we made our way to the revolving glass door, I inhaled a cleansing breath, trying to rid myself of my ill will toward Suzanne. Everyone had an off day. Maybe Suzanne was having one last night and I was unfairly reacting to her demands. Today was a new day and I was going to start it with a clean slate.
The weather had finally turned a bit cooler after an almost month-long heat wave, and I was determined to enjoy the breeze from the river as we took off down the sidewalk to Jeff’s favorite potty spot. The sun shined in all its glory, an orange ball of happiness, making me smile.
People hustled along the sidewalk in their colorful Portland array. One of the things I loved most about Portland was the diversity here. I loved that everything was so casual, me being a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl, or you could dress up and no one batted an eye.
Without warning, a man dressed in a casual plaid button-down shirt, blue jeans and brown loafers jumped out from between the two buildings we were just about to pass. “Trixie Lavender?”
My eyes opened in surprise as I stopped when he blocked my path, his eager gaze glued to mine. “Who are you?”
He stuck out a wide hand, his cheerfully youthful smile the exact opposite of his blue eyes, which were icy and hard. “Ben Adams. I’m a journalist for Truth Seeker Confidential magazine.”
I’d never heard of his magazine, but then, I haven’t really joined the rest of the planet on what’s current. I’m still working on getting the gist of social media, for Pete’s sake. So was it a reputable magazine or a tabloid? Still, I was hesitant to engage. Why would someone from a magazine want to talk to me?
But I stuck out my hand anyway and let him envelop mine, giving his a firm shake. “Do I know you? Or maybe the better question is, how do you know me?”
“Can you tell me how you know Suzanne Rothschild?” He used the name she worked professionally under, making me pause before I remembered she didn’t use Stigsson.
“Can you tell me how you think you know that I know Suzanne Rothschild?” I asked, dumbfounded by his question.
He smiled pleasantly. Yet, I couldn’t help but get the impression he was pleased with himself. “It’s my job to know. It’s called research. So can you tell me what her state of mind is today?”
I frowned and tried to step around him, tugging Jeff’s leash to lead him away, but Ben hopped in front of me, his face still cheerful and bright.
“Miss Lavender? Can you tell me how Suzanne’s feeling today after what happened last night? She is staying with you at your house, isn’t she?”
A chill raced along my spine. How did he know Suzanne was at the house? Had he been following her—us?
That was my cue to shut my mouth. No way was I giving anyone any information about anything. Without giving any thought to much but getting away from him, I said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Adams, but I’ve never heard of you or your magazine and I don’t know what you’re talking about. So if you’ll excuse me, I need to be on my way.”
I tried to step around him while Jeff snarled, barring his teeth, but that only appeared to make him more persistent. He didn’t exactly prevent me from getting away from him, but he definitely wasn’t going to make it easy.
“Oh, c’mon, Miss Lavender,” he said pleasantly. “Can’t you give a guy a little something? I gotta make a living, too. Listen, there’s money in this for you if you’ll give me an exclusive on Suzanne.”
My ire began to stir, and I don’t mind telling you, I fret over whether that’s a trigger for the evil hiding inside me. Though, I had to ask myself, where the demon inside me was now when it could be used for a specific purpose instead of only creating chaos?
Still, getting away from him now was a priority. No one wanted to see an ex-nun go rabid in downtown Portland, and without Coop here to keep me semi in check, his chance for survival was slim.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you, Mr. Adams. Now, if you’ll let me pass, I
have somewhere to be.”
“Can you tell me about Suzanne and the prenup she signed when she married Agnar Stigsson?”
My ears perked. Prenup? Well, I guess that made sense if Agnar was as rich as the rest of her ex-husbands. Shoot, I wanted to know what he was talking about, but I didn’t want to play his game and get caught up in speaking out of turn.
So I attempted to step around him again, and I was successful as I turned and began walking back toward Higgs’s apartment…until he sidled up beside me, still cheery and bright.
“Were you aware Agnar Stigsson saw a divorce attorney just a few days before they flew to Portland for the World Naked Bike Ride? And were you also aware Suzanne could be left with nothing but the clothes on her back if he found out she was unfaithful? Did you know there was trouble in their marriage? The prenup says very clearly if Agnar Stigsson files for divorce, she doesn’t get a penny.”
I tried to keep my jaw from unhinging, but in all the talk last night, she’d made it sound as though he was the love of her life. She’d never once mentioned she and Agnar were on the rocks.
Though, seriously. Would a murderer tell you their marriage was on the brink of divorce if it meant you stood to lose everything? I mean, how would she go on without her special tealeaves and freshly squeezed orange juice?
In prison I don’t think those items can be bartered for with maxi-pads and packets of Slim Jims.
Chapter 9
My eyes widened and my heart began to throb in my chest over this new information, but I couldn’t let this man see my reaction. He’d know I had no idea about a prenup. However, a prenup where Suzanne got nothing didn’t look good for her—not good at all.
Question was, did Knuckles know about this?
It was definitely motive for Suzanne to murder her husband if she wanted to prevent him from filing for divorce so she wouldn’t lose everything. Obviously, just from the demands she’d made for special teas and irritating landscaping lights, she was accustomed to living a particular lifestyle. One she might not want to give up.
Hit and Nun (Nun of Your Business Mysteries Book 2) Page 10
