“It might be too late.” The words slipped out before I could stop them and Logan’s head jutted forward.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
Suddenly I didn’t want to say any more. I knew he wasn’t going to react well. “Maybe you should talk to Emily and get the exact wording in his note.”
“What kind of note?” Logan asked. It was like a shade had been pulled over his upbeat demeanor.
I just repeated that he ought to talk to Emily as I excused myself. He grabbed his cell phone, and as I headed back to my table, I saw him start running his hand over his hair as if he was trying to soothe himself and I realized Logan must have been who Mason overheard. What had Mason said—that it sounded like the guy was working for Bradley. Hmm.
CHAPTER 9
“MISSION ACCOMPLISHED,” I SAID AS I SLID BACK in my chair. There was no joy in my voice. I looked across the bookstore café toward Logan. He was still on the phone and I could tell by his expression he’d heard the bad news. He’d lost his golden goose and there’d be no more golden eggs. I told Dinah what Logan had said he thought would happen in the event of Bradley being out of the picture. “It might take a while since no doubt there will be lawyers involved, but Mrs. Shedd should get her money. At least some of it,” I said. “Bradley mentioned some business problems in his note. I’m guessing it means his special system didn’t work and he made some bad investments.” Dinah seemed preoccupied as I spoke and grabbed my wrist when I’d finished.
“You have to be my wingman.” Dinah’s gaze darted toward the door and then back to me. She straightened Ashley-Angela’s blue shirt and fluffed E. Conner’s golden blond hair. “It’s Commander,” she said. Dinah, who could practically make her freshmen cry with just a look, was not her usual confident self.
“You never told him about Ashley-Angela and E. Conner, did you?” I said.
Dinah slumped forward and shook her head. “I was going to tell him all about them before I invited them, but there was one thing and then another ...” She glanced over toward the kids, who were happily drawing and eating mini-croissants with Swiss cheese. “Okay, I just didn’t. And now it’s really awkward.”
“Showtime,” I said under my breath as the door to the café opened and Commander Blaine hesitated in the doorway. When he saw Dinah, his face lit up like a three-hundred-watt halogen bulb, and with a buzz of energy in his step, he headed toward our table. Commander was a nickname leftover from childhood. His real name was Sylvester, which Dinah thought sounded like some kind of synthetic yarn. I guess that’s what happens when you have yarn on the brain, you see everything in terms of it.
He crossed the space in a few steps and leaned down to give Dinah a greeting kiss before pulling up a chair from a nearby table and sitting down. Commander had thick white hair, which made his complexion appear even ruddier. He had a wiry build that seemed unaffected by his age, which I guessed to be in his late fifties. It was obvious that it wasn’t occurring to him that the kids sitting at the table were with Dinah.
He and Dinah’s gazes met and simultaneously, they both said they had a surprise for the other. I attempted to make my exit, but Dinah had grabbed my wrist and wouldn’t let go until I sank back into my seat.
“You go first,” Dinah said, taking the chance to stall. Commander looked at Dinah’s hand on my wrist.
“Molly seems to want to leave,” he said as if he thought Dinah wasn’t aware of this.
“No, she doesn’t,” Dinah said, still holding on to me. “In fact, she wants to ask you about somebody.” I felt her knee nudge me. Okay, telling your male companion that you were hosting your ex’s kids might seem a little hard to understand, but I thought she was making more out of it than necessary. Though as owner of the local mailing center, he did seem to be in the middle of the information flow and she had mentioned that he knew Bradley Perkins.
Commander seemed a little disappointed when I stayed. I’m sure he thought the kids would have left with me. But he knew Dinah well enough to just go along with it. So he forged ahead and brought out some sheets he’d printed off the Internet and laid them out on the table. “My business is at a standstill around the holidays. It’s an easy time for me to take some time off. You and me on a Christmas trip up to Pacific Grove to see the monarch butterflies. No conference center this time,” he said, referring to the place we’d held our retreat. “We’d stay at a cozy inn I know. Fireplaces in every room. How about it?”
Dinah squirmed and nudged me again. “Molly, didn’t you want to ask Commander about Bradley Perkins?”
“Uh, I was just wondering if you knew him,” I said as she nudged me again. I was definitely earning the title of wingman because I was certainly winging it.
Commander seemed disappointed not to have gotten a more enthusiastic response to his trip idea, but he nodded at me. “Someone else was asking about him.”
“Who?” I asked. Answering a question with a question was an old investigative standby I’d learned from Barry—not because he meant to teach it to me, but because he’d used it on me.
Commander Blaine took a moment to collect his thoughts. “It was a couple of investigators from the Securities and Exchange Commission. Perkins used to rent a post office box from me. I offer the advantage of a real address instead of just a post office box number,” he said with a certain amount of pride in his voice. For some reason the kids looked up at his comment as if they’d noticed him for the first time and then in typical kid fashion figured whatever he was talking about was boring and went back to their coloring. If Commander noticed them staring at him, he didn’t let on.
I asked if it was a man and woman in suits and he nodded. Obviously the same people I’d seen.
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
Commander leveled his gaze. “Exactly what I knew directly about his business—nothing. Bradley’s a great guy. Friendly with lots of personality. Even after he stopped renting the box, he’d drop by and we talked about sports scores and how the soccer team was doing. I’m one of the sponsors, you know,” he said with a certain amount of pride. “But that’s it. He never discussed his work other than to say things were going really well.” Commander saw Logan and Elise heading toward the door.
“Now, Logan was always trying to sell me on Bradley’s business. He’d go on and on about what a genius Perkins was and I ought to think of investing some money with him. I never bothered with exact details of what Perkins was doing, but Logan said he’d made a bundle with him. Logan was like a one-man advertising campaign for the guy. You’d think he was making a commission or something.” I just nodded and listened.
“Then you didn’t join the investment club?”
Commander looked at me like I had asked him an absurd question.
“Nope. Call me an old fool, but when it comes to money, I’m conservative. Federally insured savings accounts are the way I go.”
I told Commander about Bradley’s suicide and his expression grew grave.
When I mentioned the note saying he’d gotten into some kind of trouble, Commander looked even graver.
“Makes me glad I never let Logan talk me into anything. Who knows what happened to all that money. I know what’s what with mine, which is why I can easily afford this trip.” He nudged the papers in Dinah’s direction again.
Before I could find out how my friend was going to answer, our cashier Rayaad came in from the bookstore and interrupted. The UPS guy was there with a delivery and needed a signature. I didn’t get a chance to see Commander’s expression when I walked away and the kids stayed behind.
The UPS guy was shifting his weight and glancing toward his truck. He swatted his electronic signing pad against his leg. A dolly with a stack of brown boxes stood next to him. He smiled expectantly as I approached and held out the pad for me to sign.
“What is all this?” I said, eyeing the boxes. Rayaad shrugged and said that was why she’d gotten me. She wasn’t going to take the responsibility for sig
ning for them. I looked at the return address on the boxes and hesitated. Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal had left without mentioning a delivery. I was considering what to do when Joshua Royal came back into the store. He saw the boxes and his face broke into a happy expression.
“Good, the things I ordered have come,” he said. The UPS guy straightened and handed him the signing thing. No hesitation here; Mr. Royal signed quickly and the UPS guy pulled the dolly out from under the boxes and left.
Mr. Royal lifted the back of his leather jacket, exposing a knife holder hanging from his belt. I stifled a gasp as he pulled the knife out of the case. I wasn’t expecting anything so long and lethal looking. I suppose it was a leftover from all his adventuring.
“Would you clear off that table,” he said, pointing to the best seller table that was adjacent to the display of Anthony books. Rayaad and I did as he asked, while he used the knife to split open the box tops.
I was surprised to see the content was all Anthony accessories. “Does Mrs. Shedd know about these?” I asked, lining up the Anthony action figures. I had to admit they were appealing and very detailed. The figure wore Anthony’s trademark black turtleneck top and black slacks and had a crochet hook in one hand and a ball of yarn in his pocket.
“I don’t need her approval,” Mr. Royal said. I listened to see if there was an edge in his voice, as if to say he could do whatever he pleased, but there wasn’t any. I took it to mean that they were really partners. Apparently his days of being the silent one were over. The other boxes had mugs, tote bags, key chains and tee shirts—all with Anthony likenesses. There was still some space on the table when we finished putting everything out. He gestured toward the back of the store and the yarn department. “Why don’t we bring some crochet hooks up here and a few balls of yarn. Let’s do some cross marketing,” he said. There was something charismatic and fun about him and we all headed toward the back.
As we were setting up a selection of crochet hooks and skeins of yarn next to the action figures, I mentioned Elise’s vampire scarf to Mr. Royal.
“Do you suppose we could offer copies of her scarf pattern? Complimentary, of course,” he said. He held up a female action figure wearing a trench coat and carrying a laptop bag. “Who is she supposed to be—another vampire?”
“That’s Colleen. She’s a reporter—a human reporter. She’s been bringing Anthony’s story to the world since he decided to go mainstream in the first book,” I said. Rayaad obviously hadn’t read the books, nor cared to. The little shake of her head was filled with distaste, and she headed back to her domain at the cashier stand.
“Mainstream?” Mr. Royal said, holding up an Anthony doll. “Please elaborate.” Apparently Mr. Royal had no idea of the story line. I had to explain that vampires were supposed to stay in the shadows, out of the public eye, and when Anthony decided to become part of the regular world, it caused a stir among the humans and stirred up trouble with the vampires.
“You see, Anthony wants to do something for mankind during his immortality. He’s stopped drinking human blood ever since he began to crochet. Now he gets by on blood products from a hospital supply place and fills in with animal blood.”
Mr. Royal made a face.
“You eat meat, don’t you?” I said and he nodded. “Anthony just takes out the middleman. But the blood stuff isn’t that important in the story line. It’s really a love story. See Anthony has fallen for Colleen, though to her he’s just a story. You do know that vampires are always very, very sexy and incredibly attractive, don’t you?”
Mr. Royal said he wasn’t familiar enough with vampires to know that and smiled good-naturedly while I continued.
“It’s not that Colleen hasn’t noticed him, she’s just keeping him at arm’s length. There’s a really hot scene in the first book. He’s telling her that learning how to crochet has changed his existence and she says she wishes she knew how to crochet. So, he teaches her, but not the usual way by demonstrating. He stands behind her, molding his body to hers, with his arms against hers, guiding her hands with his. Kind of like that scene in Ghost where Patrick Swayze helps Demi Moore with her clay piece.” I looked at Mr. Royal for some kind of recognition. He remembered the movie scene.
“So Anthony has made crochet sexy,” he said, and I nodded.
“The promotional material for Caught Under the Mistletoe gives the setup for the book. Colleen takes Anthony home to her family’s house in Connecticut for the holidays. It’s the first time he’s celebrating Christmas since he was turned into a vampire, so it’s a big deal.”
“I get it and he’s hoping to catch her under the mistletoe and wow her with his hot kisses.”
“Something like that,” I said. “Oh, and the other vampires are upset with Anthony and they’re supposed to show up at Colleen’s and cause trouble. Did I mention that her family doesn’t know Anthony is a vampire?”
“Thanks for bringing me up to speed,” Mr. Royal said, handing me the Anthony doll. “Since you seem to be an expert, why don’t you finish the display.” He started to walk away and then stopped. “I heard that neighbor of yours who was missing turned out to be a suicide. Do you know why Pamela was so upset about it?”
What could I tell him? Certainly not the truth, but I didn’t like lying, either. I was struggling for an answer when Dinah saved me by walking up and interrupting.
“Well, I told him,” Dinah said. She seemed oblivious to Mr. Royal standing there and after a moment I noticed he’d disappeared. “I don’t think Commander would mind the kids—if their father was someone else. He was kind of quiet after I explained who they were.” Dinah looked down. “I hope this doesn’t turn out to be a deal breaker.”
I did my best to reassure her and said he probably just needed a little time to process. I hoped what I was saying was true. Dinah noticed the display. I told her Mr. Royal had ordered all the action figures without even knowing the story line.
“Or so he says,” Dinah said with a knowing nod. “Did you ever think that he was A. J. Kowalski?”
“Wow,” I said. “I hadn’t thought about him.” I looked in the direction he’d gone. He was helping a customer in the travel section. “Maybe he was just pretending not to know the story line. Having me bring him up to speed was just a cover,” I said as Dinah steered the kids toward the children’s department.
When Mrs. Shedd returned, her face clouded when she saw the display. That is until I explained whose idea it was. Then she smiled and pronounced it brilliant.
“I found out some information about Bradley’s business,” I said, checking that no one was in earshot. I told her what Logan had said about the stocks being sold and the money divided up among the investors.
“Molly, I don’t find that very reassuring,” she said. “Or the complete story. Who is handling the business right now? Who is going to sell the stock and divide up the money?”
“I don’t know,” I said. An image of the man and woman in the suits I’d seen at the Perkins’ came to mind. In all that had gone on, I’d forgotten about them. I repeated what Emily had said about them being from the Securities and Exchange Commission. Mrs. Shedd seemed even more upset when I mentioned they had wanted to have a friendly interview with Bradley before he disappeared.
“What they call a friendly interview is an investigation, Molly. Bradley must have known and that’s why ...” She let her voice trail off as she wrung her hands.
Of course what she said made sense. I didn’t know that much about high finance. I was pretty much on the same page as Commander and had all my money in CDs. But the people showing up from the SEC might have been what pushed Bradley over the edge. Mrs. Shedd looked around the store and then at the time.
“We have to do something,” she said. “I told you if I don’t get back the money I gave him, the bookstore is in trouble. We’re all in trouble.” She sighed deeply and shook her head. “Someone is answering his office phone and taking messages. They must know something. It’s pretty quiet f
or the moment around here. You know how to do sleuthing. Why don’t you go to Perkins’ office right now and see what you can find out.”
CHAPTER 10
THE ADDRESS MRS. SHEDD GAVE ME TURNED OUT to be a high-rise in the Warner Center area of Woodland Hills. I’d often admired the way the all-glass high-rises reflected the sky. The directory gave a suite number on the seventh floor for Perkins Financial. This place looked like high rent to me.
A woman sat behind a counter in front of a wall of windows with a clear view of the Santa Susana Mountains. I was glad she was on the phone since I didn’t know what I was going to say and it gave me time to think. I wasn’t there just for Mrs. Shedd. I had a personal reason to find her money. I loved my job at the bookstore and didn’t want to lose it.
The woman went to another phone line. “Pearson Productions, please hold,” she said. A moment later, I heard her answer, “Higgins Insurance.” I stood up, thinking I was in the wrong office, but she answered the phone again and this time she said “Perkins Financial.” I listened while she asked their identity and put them on hold while she contacted somebody and announced the caller. A moment later, she went back to the caller and said she would have to take a message. I thought it was some kind of scam until I realized it was one of those office suite arrangements where you get some office space and services like having someone answer the phone. But even better, I figured out that someone from Perkins Financial was there. The woman clicked off after she’d written down a message. She glanced in my direction and asked if she could help me.
I didn’t want to tell her I wanted to talk to somebody from Perkins Financial and have her announce me and take the chance of being turned away. Then I had an inspiration. Instead of telling her the truth, I said I was looking for an office.
Prime Crime Holiday Bundle Page 131
