Catnapped! (A Matchmaker Mystery Book 3)

by JB Lynn

  Fiddling with his bowtie, Gerald held his ground. “I’m here because I like Mrs. M. and I want to help her.”

  “And I’m ever so grateful, Gerald, dear,” Mildred Michelman trilled. “I do so appreciate you being here.”

  Everyone’s gaze swung to her as she walked daintily down the staircase, her hand on the bannister, but her eyes firmly locked on those of her husband.

  Alyssa tried to read the older woman’s expression, but she had one of the best poker faces she’d ever seen. Her husband, on the other hand, looked distinctly uncomfortable, seemingly pinned by her stare.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mildred finally eased up on Sarge and smiled warmly at Alyssa, Roscoe, and Gerald. “Pay no attention to Mr. Michelman,” she ordered. “I’m grateful to you all and I’m certain that you are all doing your best in a difficult situation.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gerald murmured reflexively.

  Sliding her hand into the crook of her husband’s elbow, she led him away, saying, “I didn’t expect you to come.”

  Once they were out of earshot, Roscoe slapped Gerald on the shoulder. “You’ve got balls, kid. Come have some tart.”

  Gerald blinked. “Um… thanks, I think…”

  Before following Roscoe back toward the kitchen, Gerald said to Alyssa, “I should have told you they were coming when he called to ask me to pick him up from the airport, but Mr. Michelman wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “They?” Alyssa asked.

  “His son came home too. We dropped him at his apartment on the way over.”

  “Why didn’t they just hire a car service? Why call you?”

  Gerald shrugged. “Mr. Michelman tends to treat the office staff like his personal servants.”

  Alyssa frowned. “And Brady put up with that?”

  “No. Brady was hired by Mr. Willen. He never worked with or for Mr. Michelman until Mr. Willen died a while back, but even then, he didn’t put up with any of his shenanigans.”

  Alyssa bit back a smile at the young man’s use of “shenanigans.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to be back for another month,” Gerald continued. “He and Ralph were on this father-son, around-the-world trip, but I guess Mrs. M. called and told him about the missing cat. According to him, it was Ralph’s idea that they cut the trip short.”

  “And that bothers you?” Alyssa guessed.

  Gerald glanced around to make sure no one could hear. Leaning close, he whispered, “Aren’t you curious about what Mrs. M. has me working on for her?”

  Alyssa shrugged.

  “You should ask her,” Gerald urged.

  Alyssa nodded slowly. “Because you can’t tell me because of lawyer-client confidentiality?”

  He nodded.

  Realizing that the young man was well aware he’d overstepped his bounds, but had done it anyway in the interest of serving a greater good, Alyssa patted him on the shoulder. “Roscoe’s right. You’ve got balls, kid. You have got to try that tart of his.”

  Chapter 16

  Pete bounded up the stairs to Tom and Jane’s house, trying to shake the feeling of impending doom threatening to suffocate him ever since he’d played along with Armani’s parlor trick.

  Save her.

  He tapped the manila folder he held against his knee impatiently.

  Shaking his head, he reached for the doorbell, but before he made contact, excited barking announced his arrival to the household. He grinned as Calamity, Tom and Jane’s adopted mutt, and one of the reasons (besides Armani) they’d ended up together, pressed her nose to the glass beside the front door and yipped a greeting.

  Jane, a wide smile and eyes brimming with happiness, ushered him inside. Marriage agreed with her. “It’s so nice to see you, Pete.”

  “Sorry for dropping by last minute like this,” he apologized to his new sister-in-law as she pulled him into a tight, welcoming hug.

  “It’s okay,” Tom drawled from farther down the hall. “We weren’t in bed.” He winked at his new wife. “For once.”

  Color stained Jane’s cheeks. She bustled off, delivering a playful swat to Tom’s behind as she disappeared. “Ignore him, Pete. You’re always welcome.”

  “Is that true, Calamity?” Pete asked, bending to pet the dog that waited patiently at his feet for her greeting.

  She indicated her agreement by licking his palm.

  When he straightened, Pete found his brother watching him worriedly.

  “You’re here about Brady?” Tom asked.

  “I’m here about Geoff.”

  Tom blinked, surprised by the answer. As a rule, they never talked about their outcast brother. Now they were talking about him twice in one day. Pete could tell by Tom’s darkening expression that he expected him to deliver bad news.

  Pete took a deep breath. Deciding to go the “rip off the bandage” route, he blurted out, “We were wrong about Geoff.”

  Tom paled slightly.

  “I did some research on Betty Jo. She’s accused multiple men of rape in an effort to extort money from them.”

  Tom put out a hand to steady himself against the wall.

  Pete knew the feeling, like the ground was shifting beneath his feet, that truths he’d long held were falsehoods.

  “But—” Tom protested weakly.

  Pete knew that reaction too. It was easier to protest than to accept the weight of the mistake they’d made. He hung his head.

  “You’re sure?” Tom asked.

  “Positive.”

  “But all these years…” Tom trailed off.

  The two brothers stared at one another, their guilt and grief potent, but unspoken.

  “We have to fix this,” Tom decided.

  “I was going to call him and tell him that Brady’s in trouble. I thought you might want to be a part of the call.”

  Tom nodded. “What about Danny?”

  Pete frowned at the mention of their other brother. “I left him a message, but he hasn’t called me back.”

  “He’s got to be a part of the conversation.”

  What Tom didn’t say, but Pete knew he was thinking, was that it had been Danny who’d pushed for everyone else to ostracize Geoffrey.

  “I’m on a clock here,” Pete explained as the words “save her” once again echoed in his mind. “Brady needs Geoffrey’s help and I have someone I need to help.”

  “Alyssa?” Tom asked.

  Pete nodded.

  “Okay, then,” Tom decided. “We’ll call Geoffrey, explain what you found out, apologize, and tell him where to find Brady.”

  “Apologize?” The word was so inadequate that Pete’s voice cracked.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Begging him for forgiveness was the route I was going to take.”

  Tom’s mouth drew into a hard line. “Look, we screwed up, but it’s not like he was innocent in the whole thing.”

  “But I think maybe he was.”

  “Then he should have made his case.”

  “I think we just didn’t listen.”

  “He didn’t try hard enough,” Tom countered

  “He shouldn’t have had to try. He’s our brother!”

  They hadn’t realized they were shouting at one another until Jane appeared, wide-eyed, Calamity cowering behind her. “If you were dogs,” she quipped lightly, “I’d spray you both down with a hose.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Tom murmured contritely.

  “Sorry, Jane,” Pete added.

  She waved off their apologies. “Should I get dinner ready?”

  Tom shook his head. “We have something we have to take care of right away.”

  Frowning a little, Jane stepped forward and grabbed Tom’s hand. “Are you okay?”

  Witnessing her support of his brother, Pete felt a surge of jealousy, wishing he had someone who loved him that much. He looked away.

  “We’ll talk about this when I’m done,” Tom promised his wife softly.

  “Okay.” She
caught Pete’s eye before she left the room, silently warning him not to upset her husband.

  “God, I love that woman.” Tom sighed.

  Pete nodded his understanding.

  “You ready to call?”

  “You don’t think we should wait for Danny?

  Tom shrugged. “He’s working an undercover job. No telling how long it’ll be until he gets back to you. If Brady’s in the kind of trouble you say…”

  Pete pulled out his cellphone and dialed the number he’d scrawled on the outside of the folder he held. He put the speakerphone function on and he and Tom watched each other as it began to ring.

  After the fourth ring, they heard a familiar voice. “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Geoff,” Pete said nervously. “It’s Pete.”

  “And Tom,” Tom added.

  They got no reply.

  “Don’t hang up,” Pete said quickly. “I’m… We’re calling because Brady needs your help.”

  The only response was more silence.

  Pete pinched the bridge of his nose. He was barely able to breathe. The anxiety squeezing his chest was so tight. What if Geoff wouldn’t listen to them? What if he wouldn’t accept their apology? What if his brother was lost to him forever?

  He knew from his pained expression that Tom was worried about the same things.

  Pete cleared his throat. “But before I get to Brady, there’s something I need to say to you.”

  More silence.

  “You still there?” Tom asked.

  “I’m here.” Geoff’s voice, low and guarded, was deeper than Pete remembered.

  “I’m sorry,” Pete said. “We know now we were wrong. About you. About everything. I want to apologize.”

  “Me too,” Tom added.

  The ensuing silence ratcheted up Pete’s guilt.

  Sinking into a crouching position, Tom buried his head in his hands.

  “Actually,” Pete blurted out, “I wanted to beg for your forgiveness for my stupidity and the idiotic way I treated you, but Tom thought that was overkill and that I was being melodramatic.”

  He was rewarded with something that sounded a lot like a chuckle.

  Tom looked up at him, hopeful.

  “What about Danny?” Geoff finally asked.

  Pete looked to Tom for guidance, but his older brother just shrugged helplessly.

  “I don’t know,” Pete admitted. “He’s working a case and I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.”

  Geoff didn’t say anything.

  “But when we do, we’ll explain everything to him,” Tom pledged, standing up.

  “Can you send the info about Brady to my phone?” Geoff asked.

  “You bet. I’ll do it right away. It involves the father of the woman he’s involved with.”

  “Amy?”

  “How’d you know that?” Pete asked, surprised.

  Geoff smoothly evaded the question by asking, “What brought on this change of heart, guys?”

  Tom looked at Pete, the same question in his eyes.

  “A woman,” Pete admitted.

  “Must be a special lady to get through your thick skull,” Geoff teased.

  “She is.”

  “I’d like to meet her some time,” Geoff said quietly.

  Understanding that Geoff was accepting the olive branch he and Tom had extended, Pete got choked up. “I’d like that.”

  Tom clapped him on his back.

  “Soon,” Geoff promised.

  Then he disconnected the call.

  Pete and Tom stared at the phone in Pete’s hand for a long moment.

  “Soon,” Tom repeated in awe.

  “Soon,” Pete agreed, but then he remembered Armani’s prediction.

  SAVE HER.

  “I can’t stay. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “Saving a damsel in distress,” Tom teased.

  Pete’s gut clenched. Save her.

  He felt sick to his stomach by the time he pulled into the driveway of the Michelman house, having, for the whole ride over, seesawed between being convinced Armani was a talented conwoman and believing there might be a chance that she was on the up-and-up.

  He’d already gotten out of his car when he saw the back of a man as he crept around the back of the house. Was this the person who’d stolen the cat? Was this his chance to save Alyssa?

  He hurried after the mysterious stranger, unsure of what he’d do when he caught up with him. His heart pounded and breathing grew shallow as the man he was following moved steadily toward the back of the house. Face-to-face wasn’t his kind of thing. He preferred the anonymity and safety of a computer screen between him and the bad guys.

  Trying not to allow his fears to get the best of him, he focused on saving her.

  His target, who was dressed from head-to-toe in white, which didn’t seem to lend itself to committing crimes, at least in Pete’s mind, stopped and peered into one of the windows.

  Crouching, Pete dislodged one of the bricks that lined the path. Its weight in his palm made him feel marginally better. At least he was armed.

  The intruder was on the move again.

  With his free hand, he fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket. Hanging back, but keeping the uninvited guest in sight, he dialed Alyssa’s number.

  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until she answered.

  “Hello?” She sounded distracted.

  “It’s Pete,” he whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?” she whispered.

  “There’s a man outside the house. I think he’s going to try to get in the kitchen door.”

  “We have company,” she said in a normal voice, tension tightening every syllable.

  Pete knew she wasn’t talking to him. He watched as the man eyed the kitchen door, put his hand in his pocket, and began to climb the short flight of stairs.

  Pete couldn’t let him in that door. “Hey!” he shouted, running toward the stranger.

  The man half-turned and then froze in place, either because he was surprised to have been caught, or because a maniac hefting a brick overhead was bearing down on him with surprising speed.

  “Get away from there,” Pete yelled as he slowed his steps.

  The man raised his hands in surrender. The setting sun glinted off whatever he held.

  A weapon?

  The man eyed him worriedly. “What do you want?” He turned the rest of the way so Pete could see his face.

  Realizing his mistake, Pete groaned. He recognized the guy. He knew exactly who stood in front of him, perched on a narrow stair. He lowered his brick. “Sorry about that. You’re Ralph Michelman, right?”

  Mildred’s stepson nodded his agreement.

  Then the kitchen door burst open from the inside out, startling Ralph, who teetered for a moment and then tumbled backward down the stairs.

  Chapter 17

  Alyssa, fervently wishing she had her service revolver instead of a razor-sharp carving knife in one hand and a heavy meat mallet in the other, burst through the door, hoping to surprise the would-be intruder.

  If the fact he ended up falling on his butt was any indication, she’d succeeded.

  “Don’t move, dirtbag,” she yelled as loudly as she could, running down the stairs after him, knowing that the element of surprise and intimidation were two of the most effective weapons in her arsenal. She brandished the knife and mallet threateningly.

  “Stop!” Pete called, momentarily distracting her from the guy on the ground. She glanced over to find him standing a few yards away, holding his phone and what looked like a rock.

  “Call 9-1-1, Hanlon.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Pete said. “Meet Ralph Michelman.”

  Gritting her teeth, Alyssa lowered her weapons.

  The ruddy-faced man on the ground glared up at her, defiant now that he was no longer afraid of getting beaten up. “Who the hell are you people?”

  “What were you doing skulking aroun
d?” Alyssa countered as he got to his feet, and tried, ineffectively, to brush the dirt off himself.

  “I wasn’t skulking.”

  “Then why not ring the bell?”

  “Because I have a key.” He held one up, waving it like it was a winning lottery ticket.

  “You would have set off the alarm,” she told him coolly.

  “I know the code.”

  “Really?” she arched an eyebrow.

  “Really.”

  She let out a low whistle. “Impressive.”

  Ralph blinked, confused.

  “Especially considering I just changed the code an hour ago. Plus, considering the heightened security, I’m pretty sure I would have been told to expect you. So frankly, I’m going to stand by my skulking assessment.”

  “When I tell my father about this,” Ralph blustered.

  “I don’t work for your father,” she snapped.

  “Brady isn’t going to get away with this.”

  Alyssa glanced at Pete again. He’d dropped the rock and was watching the exchange between herself and Mildred’s stepson as avidly as he would a tennis match.

  “What do you want to do?” Pete asked.

  “Why don’t you go to the library? That’s where Roscoe has the Michelmans holed up. Ask them what they want to do about sonny boy here.”

  “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” Pete asked worriedly.

  She half-raised her knife and mallet in response.

  “You’re the boss.” Pete hurried past her into the house.

  “Why were you sneaking in?” she asked Ralph.

  He frowned. “I wasn’t sneaking.”

  “Do you usually go in the back door?”

  He nodded.

  She got the impression he was being honest. “Really?”

  “I do it to avoid her.”

  “Mildred?”

  “Is there another her?” There was no mistaking the animosity in his tone. Apparently, he felt the same way about his stepmother as she did about him.

  “And yet you have a key.”

  “It’s the house I grew up in.”

  He glanced up and she suspected he was looking at his childhood bedroom. She felt a surge of sympathy for him, realizing it must be hurtful to know he wasn’t welcome in his family home. Not knowing what else to say, she murmured, “I’m sorry about your clothes.”