Nabbed in the Nasturtiums

by Dale Mayer

  “But that’s not the case,” the captain blustered.

  Doreen shrugged. “We can say that,” she said, “but this person obviously feels very differently about it.”

  “Yeah,” he said, with a nod. “I can see that.”

  Mack nudged her forward. “Let’s go to the interview room,” he said, nodding to his captain.

  She looked around with interest and then whispered to him, “I’ve never been down here before.”

  “Really?” He looked at her with interest, as he contemplated it. “You’ve been down here a number of times.”

  “I have,” she said, “but usually I’m on the other side.”

  “You might be this time too,” he said in a grave tone.

  She stopped and shook her head. “Surely not,” she protested. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “No, but I’m not sure who this Denise person is and why she is aligning with you.”

  “And that just makes it sound like something is wrong with me.”

  “No,” he corrected again, his tone firm. “Something is very right about you, and I think Denise’s trying to hook into that.”

  “Oh.” His explanation left her momentarily speechless because she didn’t have a clue what to say to that. Mack motioned her into the room, and she saw Denise, sitting there nervously. Doreen walked over, giving Denise a big smile. “See? I said I’d be here,” she said, then pulled up the second chair and plunked down beside her.

  Immediately Denise leaned forward, her face a wreath of gratitude. “Thank you,” she said. “Police stations, the courts, the whole law enforcement thing, it all just gives me the heebie-jeebies in a way.”

  “Because of your uncle?”

  “I don’t know if it’s so much my uncle. My father was always in trouble with the law, and he kept getting carted away, time and time again, and it left a really weird feeling. It’s almost like it’s major trauma for me.”

  “If you didn’t do anything wrong,” Doreen said, “it shouldn’t affect you.”

  “Easy to say,” she said, with a half laugh. “Some of the darndest things trigger memories that just make life difficult.”

  Doreen had to remind herself that she had a few of her own skeletons. “No, you’re quite right there,” she said, “but today it’s more about just asking you questions.”

  “But the questions get personal, and they get difficult. I always feel like I’m writing an exam and that they’re looking for specific answers. If I don’t know what the answer is or if it’s one that I should even give them because I don’t know what they truly have for an agenda.”

  That was such a thought-out answer that Doreen could only stare at her in wonder. “Sounds like you have been on this side before.”

  “Oh, absolutely. Every time my father got in trouble,” she muttered. “I had to explain where he was, what he’d done, why he was where he was, where I was, what I was doing—that whole feeling of being a suspect too,” she said, “and it’s not fair.”

  “No, that sounds awful,” Doreen said.

  Mack had been standing at the doorway, just watching the two of them interact with each other. He entered, sat down with a pad of paper and a recorder, and said, “Honestly we’re not here to terrorize you. We’re just trying to figure out where your uncle has gone and help you find him.”

  “That would be lovely,” Denise said, “but it never seems to be quite so easy.”

  “Let’s start with the basics.” And Mack went through a whole pile of questions that Denise answered readily enough. And then he asked, “Why did you go to Doreen with the note?”

  “Honestly because I didn’t think you would give my uncle a fair shake.”

  He looked at her, frowning. “He’s just a missing man,” he said. “I don’t mean to make that sound like he doesn’t matter or that missing men don’t matter. And, while his history gives us more leads as to why somebody may have taken him, it doesn’t make him any less of a victim in this case.”

  “And I want to believe that,” she said earnestly, “but it’s not the easiest thing, if you’re me.”

  “Understood, but you know there could have been fingerprints on that letter, and there could have been some kind of trace evidence maybe.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, “and I don’t understand why it was addressed To Whom It May Concern. I mean, if somebody knew about him, they should have known that I was around.”

  “But you didn’t live there, did you?”

  “No, I moved out a few weeks ago, but I was over all the time, visiting,” she said. “And because my mail was still delivered there, I was the one who always checked the box.”

  “Which means the sender likely knew that but maybe didn’t know who you were,” Doreen suggested.

  Mack nodded. “Both are possible. And we’ll make a note of that. So you never saw it delivered, correct?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just opened the mailbox, and it was there.”

  “I’m sure you noted that no stamp is on it. So it didn’t go through the regular mail system.”

  She stared at him. “You know what? I didn’t even think of that. I guess it makes sense, and that probably means it was hand-delivered.” She frowned. “The mailbox sits on the edge of the fence, so anybody could have put it in there.”

  “Are there any cameras around?” Doreen asked Mack.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not a very common thing in town, as it is.”

  “I wonder,” she muttered. “It just seems like such an opportunity is there for either our kidnapper or for somebody else close to Dicky to have availed himself of this method for a blackmail note. But for a ransom? ‘Give back what you stole, or I’ll take $100,000,’ I’m not sure I buy it.”

  “I wonder just what the value is of the item this person supposedly lost,” Mack said to Doreen.

  “Meaning,” Denise asked, “he’s asking for an equivalent amount or for so much more that it’ll be easier to give back the item they have?”

  “If the thieves even still have it,” Doreen said. “Especially if this is something nicked twenty-odd years ago.”

  At the use of the word, his eyebrows shot up. He looked at her and said, “Nicked?”

  She shrugged.

  “But he didn’t take anything,” his niece said in a determined voice. “And I can’t have you thinking he did.”

  “Okay,” Mack said, looking at her dubiously. “But think about this. Dicky was guilty once, so you know that’s possible. You just don’t know why he would do it again.”

  Denise slumped in her chair and nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”

  Chapter 20

  Throughout the whole conversation, Doreen kept getting an odd vibe off this young woman, studying her intently. She couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally Doreen settled back, aware of the concerning look in Mack’s gaze as he focused on Denise too. Doreen gave a one-arm shrug and said, “Are there any other questions you need to ask Denise?”

  The young woman looked at her gratefully. “I really would like to get out of here,” she said, waving her hand as if it were a fan. “It’s really hot, isn’t it?”

  Mack stared at her. “No,” he said, “it’s really not.”

  She just frowned.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Doreen said in a gentle voice. “Is there anything else you can offer?”

  The woman immediately shook her head. “No, I got this letter, and that was it,” she said. “I don’t even know why I have to be here.” She jumped to her feet and asked, “Can I go?”

  Doreen immediately hopped to her feet and said, “Yes, of course we can go.”

  Denise looked at her hopefully and said, “Really?”

  “Yes, of course.” Doreen looked to Mack and asked, “You know how to get ahold of her if you have any other questions, right?”

  He nodded. “I sure do.” He walked to the door, opened it, and said, “Thanks for coming in. As soon as
we get any more information on this, we’ll let you know.”

  Denise nodded and basically ran from the room.

  As Doreen went to follow, Mack grabbed her hand and said, “What was all that about?”

  “Depends on who you’re asking,” she said, “because I have no idea. I just get a weird feeling from her.”

  “Me too. I’m really not sure what’s going on here. I’ll check into her background a little bit more.”

  “Which is why people don’t like to come in to the cops,” she said, with a note of humor. “She came in to help out, and now you’ll investigate her.”

  “It’s what we do,” he said.

  “I get it, but you can also understand why she’s hesitant to come in.”

  “If she has nothing to hide, it won’t matter.”

  “She’s related to a criminal,” she muttered gently. “I don’t think that it’s even an issue that she has a criminal record but that she’ll obviously be nervous because of her uncle’s record. And her father’s.”

  “Maybe, but there’s been no sign of Dicky yet.”

  “What are the chances that he took off on his own?” she asked.

  “No, we don’t think so,” he said. “We have an eyewitness report that he was forced into a car.”

  She nodded slowly. “Who is this eyewitness?”

  “I can’t really discuss it,” he said, “but it’s reputable.”

  “Maybe, but somehow you know very well that we don’t always see what we’re supposed to see, or we’re led to see something that is different.”

  “Meaning?”

  “What if he staged it? What if he’s trying to get away from whoever and whatever and staged it to make his own getaway?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “If he stole something worth $100,000 and spent the money after selling the thing and knew he would be found out sooner or later, he’s probably figured out his escape plan,” she said. “Regardless, if you think about it, it worked. Nobody has a clue where he is. He’s off doing his own thing, and, outside of his niece, nobody seems to care.”

  “We care,” Mack said.

  “I’m sure you do,” she said, with a nod, “but it’s not like he’s overrun with crying relatives, is he?”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.” With that, she turned and walked out of the station. “Next time, I’m bringing the animals,” she called back.

  The captain hollered from his office, “Do it. I really like that dog.”

  “It’s the bird that’s awesome,” added one of the other detectives from across the hall.

  She laughed. “Glad you guys like them. I was thinking about making them therapy animals.”

  “Wow, I don’t even know if you can do that,” Mack said, looking at her in surprise.

  “I don’t know either,” she said, “but it’s a job for those of us who don’t have any.”

  “There you go,” Arnold said, sniggering. “Put the animals to work, so you don’t have to.”

  She beamed. “Right. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”

  “It does with kids, or at least it’s supposed to,” the captain said, with a smirk. “But it never really works out the way you expect it to.”

  “You know what? I can kind of see that too,” Doreen said, some of her hopes falling. “It’s not like Mugs and Goliath and Thaddeus will be the easiest to get to do my bidding. They seem to think they can do their own thing.”

  “That’s because they do,” Arnold said, with a grin. “Your research findings keeps us all busy in the meantime.”

  She smiled and said, “I’m not really hot to trot on any real case right now. I’m kind of bored.” She looked at the captain hopefully. “You don’t have anything for me to look at, do you?”

  He shook his head. “We’re so overwhelmed with all our current cases,” he said, “nobody has had a chance to even look at our cold cases.”

  “That’s sad, isn’t it?” she said.

  The captain nodded. “It’s beyond sad because we don’t want them to be cold in the first place. So to think of them sitting there unsolved all this time makes it even harder. We need to find a way to get in touch with each one and just do a reassessment to see if there’s anything, like new technology, that we can look at.”

  “And this is where I wish I were a cop,” she said, with a nod, “because that would be right up my alley.”

  “And I see that,” the captain said. “You appear to have quite the problem-solving mentality.”

  “Or just the problem-making mentality,” Mack said, coming up behind her, joining the group. He laid a hand on her good shoulder and said, “I thought you’d gone to the parking lot with Denise.”

  “No,” she said, looking up at him. “I just wanted to put a little distance between us.”

  “Any reason why? What was bothering you about her?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It just seemed odd. Something was off, but I can’t put my finger on it. The whole time I was in there, it was bugging me.”

  The captain nodded sagely. “Sometimes you’ve got to honor that part of you too,” he said, “because instinct is huge in our business, and it has saved many lives.”

  “That’s good to know,” she said. “I’ve had a lot of close calls, but I’m not sure how much of that was instinct versus my animals.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the captain said, “as long as they were just close calls, and you’ve managed to get away from it all.”

  She smiled. “Anyway I’ll head home. I miss the animals already.” With a wave to everyone, she turned and walked out. As she got to the door, she saw Mack racing up behind her. She stopped and waited for him. “What’s up?”

  “Just wondering if you’re okay.”

  “I am. Like I said, something is off about that young woman.”

  “I know,” he said. “I felt it myself, but you know that it could be nothing. We’re always looking for the boogeyman, and, when we can’t find any, sometimes it’s easy to make them up.”

  “Maybe, and maybe it’s more that she is hiding something, and we just don’t know what it is. That bothers me though. It could be anything—from having walked out and not paid for her lunch to who knows what else,” she said, with a half smile. “It’s just enough to be unnerving.”

  Chapter 21

  Tuesday Late Afternoon to Wednesday Morning …

  Doreen got home to find all the animals curled up in the living room. She managed to get up on the porch and peek in the window, before they heard her. Of course they jumped up excitedly when they saw her. She unlocked her door and disarmed the security system, as she shook her head and said, “Hey, Mugs.” She reached down and scrubbed his ears. “I know you know it’s me, but still a little bit more guard-dog alert would be nice.”

  Yet she understood that Mugs needed his downtime too, what with the last few months being so exciting. Maybe he needed a little extra sleep too. She went into the kitchen and put on the teakettle, deciding that it wasn’t time for coffee at the moment. When her tea was brewed, she took her cup out onto the deck, where she sat down on her rocking chair to enjoy the day.

  Mugs immediately came to her side and rubbed his head against her leg. She bent down and picked him up. He was a good armful, and she groaned with an umph as his weight settled into her lap. But he turned and immediately licked her neck and tucked in close. She held him against her heart for a long moment, just enjoying holding him close to her, so grateful that he was in her life. “We’ve had quite the time, haven’t we?”

  Mugs woofed and Goliath purred.

  Her phone rang beside her and, shifting the weight of Mugs to her other arm, she pulled out her cell and took a look. “Hello, Nick.”

  “Have you heard anything from your ex?”

  “No, though you told me that, even if he did try to contact me, to not answer him.”

  “Good,” he said, “you got th
e message then.”

  “What message?”

  “About not having anything to do with him.”

  “Why are you calling me again?” she asked in confusion.

  “Just checking. Has he responded at all?”

  “Nope, nothing. Complete silence. So what happens if he doesn’t respond?” she asked.

  “That’s a good question, but we do have ways and means, if he refuses to negotiate,” he said. “Then we’ll go to the judge, if need be.”

  She winced. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to anything that involves going to court,” she muttered. “He’s quite intimidating that way.”

  “Nah, not for you,” he said. “You’re the woman solving all these cold cases. You will fight for everybody but yourself. How about sticking up for yourself, just this once.”

  She gasped. “That’s not fair.”

  “Maybe not,” he said gently, “but it’s true.” With that, he hung up.

  She frowned as she put down the phone. Was it true? Was she the kind of person who wouldn’t look after herself, but the minute somebody else was attacked she’d defend them? She realized that a lot of truth was in his words. She sat here for a long moment, contemplating how much she’d changed in some ways and how little she had changed in others. “You know what, Mugs? Here I thought I was doing great, but maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought.”

  She was still thinking about that when she made herself a simple salad for dinner—and even later when she got ready for bed. She brought out her journal and took a look at it and realized how much confidence she had gained with all these cases and dealing with people.

  After staying as many months as she had in Nan’s house, managing to pay some bills and surviving okay, even though she wasn’t necessarily thriving, at least financially she had managed to squeak by okay. So she’d gained a lot of confidence. But not gained a ton of self-worth, and that was something she hadn’t even realized. It was a little disconcerting to consider it also.

  She looked at Mugs and frowned. “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do with this,” she muttered. “It’s a bit of an eye-opener to even consider that I’ve made so little progress in that department.”