Foreclosed: A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery (A Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery, a Cozy Christian Collection)

by Traci Tyne Hilton

  “Your Great Aunt Irene?” Mitzy leaned forward to get a better look at him.

  He lunged forward, his hands on the puppy sling and dragged her to him and to the ground.

  “He’s just a puppy!” Mitzy shouted. She kicked but couldn’t find him with her feet in the dark.

  The nondescript man kicked Mitzy in the stomach.

  Tears sprung to her eyes, and bile filled her throat.

  She wrapped her arms around the puppy and whispered the prayer of the desperate. “Oh, Lord, please help!”

  Alonzo was at the door to the basement in less than a second. He had heard Mitzy cry out.

  She had the puppy and someone had her.

  He couldn’t believe he had missed the door to the basement. Couldn’t believe he hadn’t gone straight to the cellar to see where the dumbwaiter’s shaft ended.

  Couldn’t believe that someone could actually hurt his Mitzy.

  No, not his Mitzy. Just Mitzy.

  He bounded down the stairs in three steps and punched whoever that guy was in the head. His knuckles stung with the impact, but the man fell against the wall, so it was worth it.

  Mitzy was a crumpled mess on the floor, whiny puppy somewhere in the room with her and her massive pile of blond curls shining in the glow from his flashlight.

  “Laurence,” Alonzo said.

  “Miramontes,” Laurence replied.

  Mitzy groaned. If Alonzo was here, she was done for.

  Alonzo crouched down beside Mitzy and brushed her hair aside.

  Laurence Mills grabbed a two by four and swung it at Alonzo’s head.

  It hit.

  Joan rang the bell at Mitzy’s penthouse. She rang it again. She looked at her watch. It was just after nine. Surely Mitzy wasn’t at the office. She sighed. She wanted to collect that sweet puppy. She felt terrible for leaving it for so long. She pressed her ear against the door but couldn’t hear anything. She pushed the bell button one more time before giving up.

  Joan supposed the puppy was fine. Or maybe Sabrina had it. She wished she had her cell phone on her, but it was charging back home.

  She took her van over to Sabrina’s and rang the bell.

  Sabrina answered wearing her bathrobe, a wine glass in hand. “Hey, care to join me? I’m watching House on Tivo.” She motioned for Joan to come in.

  “I’m just looking for Gilbert.” A glass of wine and some television sounded nice. Especially that charming old Hugh Laurie.

  “Mitzy has him. I thought you knew that.” Sabrina wandered back into her living room and put the television on pause.

  “You know, I thought she did, but she wasn’t home so I second guessed myself. Do you know where she went?” Joan played with the moonstone necklace she was wearing.

  “I don’t. Maybe Brett’s to talk about the lawsuit?” She was pouring another glass as she spoke. “I saw you eyeing the good doctor. I know you want to stay.” She passed the second glass over to her friend.

  Joan accepted the glass, swirled it in the cup, checking out the legs. It wasn’t too cheap looking. She sniffed it and took a sip.

  “I’m sure the puppy is safe with Mitzy.” She followed Sabrina over to the sofa. They put their feet up and let House get back to business.

  As Laurence tied Mitzy to the prone figure of Alonzo, it occurred to her that perhaps Alonzo wasn’t after her after all. But whatever the circumstances, Mitzy thought it better to act dazed and get tied up, than to go his route and get hit in the head with a big stick.

  Alonzo’s large, heavy flashlight had rolled to the base of the staircase. Her arms were free at the elbow so she stroked Gilbert, trying to get him to calm down. She didn’t want him to draw attention to them and have to take the force of a blow from the man Alonzo had called Laurence.

  Laurence didn’t seem to realize the importance of the key she had. As she fell she had let it slip gently to the ground beside her, and it was still within reach. Alonzo’s big, heavy Maglite, which had turned off when it hit the ground, was very near her toes.

  She felt Alonzo pulling at their restraints as he lifted his head. Idiot, she thought.

  He was struck down again by the treasure hunter.

  Laying low was definitely the best option. They weren’t tied carefully or tightly, but if Alonzo took too many blows to the head she wouldn’t be able to drag him out of the basement as she fought off the bad guy alone.

  There was a loud crash from the back of the cellar followed by a long stream of cursing.

  Laurence kicked Alonzo in the stomach as he hoofed it out of the basement.

  Alonzo groaned.

  A moment later, he was whispering to her. “Idiot. You’re going to get yourself killed by this lunatic. Do you have any idea who he is?”

  “Apparently he is Laurence Mills.” She stiffened. Alonzo was still Alonzo, even if he wasn’t after the jewels.

  “Laurence is Mikhaylichenko and Mikhaylichenko is Russian Mafia, Mitzy. He kills people,” Alonzo hissed.

  “Funny I didn’t see his name in my copy of who’s who of the Mafia.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Mitzy. He is a very dangerous man.”

  “As you have seen for yourself.” Mitzy twisted in the rope, trying to gauge how much give it had.

  “I’m not tied up here alone, am I?” Alonzo said.

  “I suppose you know who Princess Irena Romanov is as well, and exactly how she is related to Laurence Mills.” Mitzy was showing off and wriggling the ties loose at the same time.

  “Hold still!” Alonzo’s whisper sounded angry.

  The rope they had been tied with was below her knees already, so she ignored him and kicked it all the way off.

  “Do you know where that puppy is? We need to find him.” This time Alonzo’s whisper had a hint of fear in it.

  Mitzy reached over for his hand and pulled it to her dog sling.

  “Why are you wearing a dog?” He kept his hand on the puppy’s head while he crawled to his knees.

  “He is too little for a leash. Are we escaping now or not?” She was ready to sit up when Laurence or Maxim or whoever he was came flying down the stairs again.

  He grabbed Alonzo by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet. He must not have been paying very close attention to details as he didn’t seem to notice his two captives weren’t tied together anymore.

  “I am going to pry this loose and you are going to hold it up for me,” Laurence or Maxim said.

  The sound of a pry bar scraping on stone was all Mitzy heard for a few moments.

  Patting the puppy in hopes to keep him quiet, Mitzy inched her way, still lying on her side, to the bottom of the staircase. She wondered how the treasure hunter knew he was at his target in the dark. She slipped the Maglite into her hand and then rose to her knees.

  She slowly crossed the cellar, the knees of her wool slacks scraping across the hard packed dirt floor. Then, when she reached the men, she silently rose to her feet.

  She raised the Maglite high above her head with one hand and prodded the key into Laurence/Maxim’s neck with the other. “Stop!” It was the best she could think of in the moment but she said it loud.

  The large stone or whatever it was hit the ground with a thud. The pry bar didn’t drop, Mitzy noted.

  “Alonzo, call 911!” Mitzy ordered. She could hear him rustling his pockets and hoped he had a phone on him.

  “You’re too late. You’ll be dead and I’ll be gone long before any police can make it here.”

  Mitzy jabbed his neck with her rod.

  “Ouch!”

  She pushed the key harder into his fleshy neck. “Maxim Mikhaylichenko we know who you are, we know how to say your stupid long last name, and we know you are looking for the jewels. But you won’t find them in the storm drain.” Mitzy twisted the rod.

  Maxim pulled his neck away, but Mitzy kept her rod pressed hard against him.

  “You can’t kill us because we know exactly where the jewels are and you do not. You need us.”
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  “You seem to be mistaken about my current plan.”

  “Don’t be coy,” Mitzy said. “You know I have the drain key pressing your neck right now. But you thought you could just pry it apart. I don’t know what you will find in that drain. I’m sure it is interesting. But it’s not the jewels, is it, Alonzo?” She was bluffing. Her key was probably the key to the drain and it was probably where the jewels were hidden.

  Maxim moved ever so slightly and Mitzy brought the Maglite down on his head. The force shook her to her shoulders.

  Maxim’s hands flew to his head and he dropped the pry bar. Alonzo grabbed it in an instant and dropped Maxim with one blow to the back of his knees.

  “Tell me you found your phone!” Mitzy yelled as she ran for the stairs. Her purse was in the foyer and her cell phone was with it. Alonzo said nothing but stayed with Maxim, who was down, but not out.

  She stumbled up the stairs, one hand on the dog and raced to her phone. She couldn’t help but wonder if Maxim had a gun.

  “Aerin is so mean.” Sabrina had had just enough sips of her wine to be chatty. “She’s nasty, snooty mean. I hope she’s not mean to Gilbert.”

  “She’s too cool to be mean to a puppy.” Joan was still sipping her first glass.

  “She would be mean to a puppy. I’m going to call Mitzy to make sure Gilbert is okay. You know you want me to.”

  Joan yawned. She didn’t want Sabrina to call Mitzy. Most likely, if she called Mitzy, Joan would have to give up her comfy spot on the sofa and run across town to pick up the dog. This was her favorite episode, where House and Cuddy hooked up. She didn’t feel like leaving the sofa, Hugh Laurie, and the nice, fruity Syrah. But the phone was already ringing.

  “Mitzy! It’s Sabrina! Are they being mean to the puppy?” Sabrina asked. “Not Alonzo, silly, Aerin. Is she being mean to our wittle Gilbert?” Sabrina frowned at Joan. “911? You need to call 911? Is it the puppy, is it okay?” Sabrina was tearing up. Poor Gilbert. They had to call an ambulance for him.

  Mitzy grabbed her Birken bag off the floor as it began to ring. Ring! Not a call?! She had half a mind to throw it out the window but it was Sabrina. That was almost as good as 911.

  “Sabrina!” she shouted.

  “Wait, Sabrina, wait, I’m at the Victorian. Call 911. Alonzo is hurt.” Sabrina was saying something else entirely. Mitzy hung up. She didn’t have time to waste explaining this to Sabrina. She turned it on again. Sabrina was still there, she was sniffling. Mitzy hung it up again and waited a few seconds.

  She stared at the staircase as she waited. Both sets of arrow posts pointed up, away from the door, and slightly to the left. She tilted her head and followed the line they made carefully.

  Both sets of arrows pointed to the narrow wall between the stairs and the parlor.

  She dropped the phone and ran to the wall.

  She ran her hands up and down the papered surface.

  There it was. A panel or a door. She looked up the wall, the height of the two stories she could see. The wall was a dumbwaiter.

  The missing jewels were hidden in a closed up dumbwaiter. And they weren’t in the basement. Or were they? Maybe the key she found was for operating the dumbwaiter from the basement.

  She scratched at the paper with her fingernails, trying to cut into the edge where she could feel the panel but it wasn’t working.

  She ran to her phone, grabbed it up and hit 911. Emergency services answered right away.

  “There’s a robbery happening at Smith Boulevard and Baltimore Street, I’m in the house, I’m in danger!” she shouted. The operator spoke calmly and told her police were on their way.

  She heard a loud crash in the basement. “Hurry! I think someone’s been hurt!” Clinging to the phone, the dog wetting some more and whining constantly, Mitzy ran back to the basement.

  She had the Maglite still and swept the room with the light. The basement wide, and long; it took her a few moments to find the men.

  Alonzo seemed to have the better of the situation. He was standing, at least. She didn’t see Maxim immediately. There was a pile of crates next to Alonzo and Maxim seemed to be under them.

  “He’s not—dead?” She choked on the word.

  “No. He’s immobilized, but not dead. I’ve been trying to work out how he sold himself a house. And then why he was stupid enough to get foreclosed. But he’s been pretty pinched about it. I would think at closing the title agent would have noticed that Maxim and Laurence looked a lot alike. There is the chance that Maxim is not in it alone and has a Laurence Mills stand-in for certain jobs.” The pile of crates shifted. “I wonder exactly which one of them Sabrina will ID down at the station.” Alonzo stood with his arms behind his back and one foot up on a crate. The leg was in some sort of makeshift bandage.

  “Alonzo, are you hurt?” Her eyes went wide with concern. She held the flashlight on his leg for a long time. It looked like it was bleeding.

  “No, not too bad, sweetie.” He pressed his foot down hard on the crate as it rose up again.

  “Let me see it.” She moved closer.

  “It’s really not a good time. I’m sort of engaged. Did you have a peek and see if the jewels were still in place?” He was bluffing, but it felt good to have his man down and in suspense.

  “You know…” she said, smiling at Alonzo, “I wanted to, but I had to grab a box knife first.”

  He couldn’t see her features as she spoke, since she held the only light. But he was very excited by what she said. A box knife would be exactly what he would use to access the door to the dumbwaiter. Not that he suspected the infamous and long sought after jewels were hidden behind one layer of wallpaper. But something was hidden there.

  “Yes, that would be handy. Though I don’t think now is the time.” He chatted in a calm voice though he was raging with adrenaline. He could hear sirens as the cops pulled into the driveway.

  Mitzy turned and ran back upstairs.

  She ran straight out the front door waving her hands madly.

  She was breathless, but managed to say, “In the basement. Alonzo has him in the basement. I don’t think he’s armed.” She turned and ran inside. The four police officers followed her lead.

  Two of the cops had big flashlights lighting the room. The two in front had stun guns.

  “Come out with your hands up!”

  Alonzo stepped forward, his hands in the air.

  Mitzy wanted to tell them that he was a good guy, but they had left her at the top of the staircase.

  The crates clattered to the ground and Maxim Mikhaylichenko slowly stood up. He walked forward and let himself be cuffed.

  Mitzy and Alonzo cleared up who they were and why they were there, but ended up being escorted to the station as well.

  It wasn’t that simple to explain the presence of two Realtors in a foreclosed house at night, especially as they had had a scuffle with the Mafia. The cops took Maxim’s name and the system immediately knew who he was, and most of his aliases.

  At the station, Gilbert was put into a small plastic animal crate. Mitzy kept the sling around her body to cover the wet and stinking shirt.

  Maxim was a person of interest to the cops so she and Alonzo had a detective and a bad cup of coffee each.

  “I was interested in the house because the property next door is my rental. If I could sell it to a good neighbor it would protect my other investment.” Mitzy sipped her hot, bitter coffee from the plastic lid of the paper cup.

  “I see.” The detective scratched a note on his paper. “And what brought you into the house this evening?”

  She hesitated and he noted it down. “I hadn’t been inside yet. So I guess curiosity. I’ve been talking about the property some on my radio segment—about renovator/foreclosure theft, which I suspected was going on at this property.” She paused for another sip of coffee. She sat up straight but she was shaking. They had their man, but she might be in trouble for it still.

  “I’ve heard you a few time
s on the radio.”

  When Mitzy didn’t volunteer anything new he continued. “Was that all you were interested in this evening?”

  “Well…I know I have to be honest, but I feel like a fool saying this out loud. I had done a little reading about this particular house and it seemed to have a mystery associated with it. I sort of wanted to see if there was anything to it.” She held her head a little higher, if possible.

  “What mystery?” He might have been asking the color of her shoes for all the interest he had in his tone of voice.

  “The family that lived in the home for many, many years is associated with a particular set of missing Russian jewelry. And I wondered if there was anything about the house that would...” Mitzy cleared her throat. “I wanted to know if the jewels were in the house.” Her face burned with shame as she spoke.

  “What did you intend to do if you found the missing jewels?” The cop was writing faster now.

  “I didn’t have it all planned out, though I did have it in mind to contact a family called Wilber who has some connection to the lost jewels. I thought if there was something at the house, the family would be interested in purchasing the property.”

  “You didn’t want them for yourself?” He made direct eye contact, pen poised over his pad.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “What could I do with famous missing jewels? Get into serious trouble, probably. But if the heir of the missing jewels owned the house the jewels were hidden in, they’d be pleased and the value of my rental property would be preserved.” She sighed, drank some coffee and wished that she had a more logical reason for being in the house.

  “Why was Mr. Miramontes in the house this evening?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Was he looking for the same thing you were after?”

  “I don’t know. I had gone into the cellar to see what the key I had found fit—“

  He interrupted her. “Describe the key.”

  She did and he scratched more notes.

  “What happened when you went into the cellar?” the detective asked.